


Always You

by paintyouwings



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band), Solo 1D
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, As it turns out most of you might hate Harry as well, Bottom Louis, Cheating, Getting Back Together, Harry/OMC - Freeform, Implied Mpreg, Love to hate to love, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Minor Character Death, Mpreg Louis, Smut, Top Harry, but i needed to tag it so you all wouldn't be angry and hate me, but it's honestly only important for some angst, but this is really sad guys ngl, i'll tag the smut once i get there, larry endgame, larry stylinson - Freeform, leukemia specifically, mentions of mpreg, same honestly, some of you will hate louis pls dont, that's a spoiler i believe, trigger warning for cancer and cancer related things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-22 11:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11966121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintyouwings/pseuds/paintyouwings
Summary: "Because if he were in that father’s position, the girl would probably be living in some shitty dorm room on campus and learning that if she wants a better place to live, she’d have to work for it. But the reality of the matter is that Harry will probably never be in this position. Louis made sure of that for him."If you asked Harry Styles how he ended up like this, he'd tell you it was all Louis' fault. He'd tell you Louis couldn't handle the concept of marriage. He'd tell you Louis is an inconsiderate, selfish asshole, who can't seem to understand the whole idea of 'joint custody', (although, that was never technically agreed upon legally). He'd tell you Louis gave up.Really though, Harry Styles doesn't have much room to talk.The truth is, Harry gave up too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by something a friend of a friend wrote for a different fandom YEARS ago. Not gonna lie, this will break your heart. Let me know if I missed anything in the tags. Please read them. They're important.

“It’s a really great flat. If you’re looking just to own it while she’s in uni and selling it after, I guarantee it’ll be a good investment. Penthouses in this part of London go fairly quickly”

Harry leans his elbows on side against the granite countertop of the kitchen island, watching as the man standing before him furrows his eyebrows and stares at the contract in his hands. The man’s daughter is standing right beside him, gripping onto his arm and hopping up and down on both feet. Harry can hear her saying, ‘Please, Daddy! I swear I won’t get anything lower than an A all year!’ and it’s nothing he’s never heard before.

“And that’s the final price?” The man questions, looking up at Harry with an obviously hesitant look.

“As I said, a penthouse in this part of London sells quickly. If you don’t agree to this price, I have a lovely newly-wed couple just dying for a place like this to call home,” Harry responds automatically. He sees the man’s shoulders slump and he can tell that he’s just won this sale. The girl, who’s likely no older than eighteen, is grinning widely, knowing she just got her flat.

This is all routine for Harry. He’s been in the real estate business since he was twenty one. Seven years later and he knows just what to say in order to close a sale. He waits for the father to fill out the necessary paperwork, write the check, then he escorts the man and his daughter out the door and down to the complex’s lobby.

The daughter’s smile never leaves her face as she immediately pulls out her cell phone to presumably call up one of her mates and brag about her new flat. Harry’s not entirely sure why she’s so excited. She probably won’t make it a month on her own. It bothers him that this father is just letting her have this million dollar flat. It bothers him a lot. Because if he were in that father’s position, the girl would probably be living in some shitty dorm room on campus and learning that if she wants a better place to live, she’d have to work for it. But the reality of the matter is that Harry will probably never be in this position. Louis made sure of that for him.

Harry makes one other sale before it’s one o’clock and he’s able to take a lunch break. He retreats into his office, carefully closing his door behind him so that none of his coworkers try and come in and talk to him. It’s not that he doesn’t like them. He actually really enjoys their company. But today…today’s a bit different. Today Harry doesn’t really want to talk to anybody. Unless his name’s Jude and he happens to be turning eight years old.

The knock on his office door comes twenty minutes after one, when Harry is sitting at his desk and slowly working his way through a bag of crisps that he bought at the Tesco across the street. He knows who it is just by the way the person knocks, and the way they wait for him to tell them it’s okay to come inside.

“Come in, Thomas,” he calls out loud enough for his boyfriend to hear and he puts the bag of crisps back down on his desk.

The door opens slightly, just enough for Thomas to slip inside. Harry watches him do so, his lips curling upwards and he really can’t fight back the smile even if he tried. The younger boy grins back at him as he shrugs off his oversized jean jacket and bundles it up in his arms.

“I brought you lunch,” he says, holding out the plastic bag in his hands. “I saw last night that you didn’t have lunch already made in the fridge so I figured I’d bring you something.”

Harry stands, his smile still present, and walks around his desk so that he’s standing in front of Thomas. He takes the plastic bag out of his hands and puts it down on the desk before stepping forward. His hands move to Thomas’s waist and he leans in closer so that their foreheads are touching. He smiles wider, showing his teeth, as he says, “Thanks Tom,” and presses their lips together.

Thomas pulls away first, but keeps his arms wrapped tightly around Harry’s waist. “You taste like those salt and vinegar crisps I hate.”

“Well considering that was my lunch up until you got here,” Harry teases, stepping back and leaning against his desk, crossing his arms. He looks at Thomas, still smiling. His boyfriend is adorable, he can’t deny him of that. He stands there at six feet even, a body just a little more muscular and taller than Harry normally likes, and his hair just a mess of dark blonde waves (until he gets it cut). “How’s your day going?”

“Fine,” Thomas responds shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and letting his jacket drop onto the chair beside him. “My first class got cancelled so I got to sleep a bit longer. Then my second class got out early so I figured I’d come see you before my next one. Nothing interesting, really.”

“That’s cool then. Did you um. Did you get to stop home at all?”

Thomas opens his mouth to answer, but then he pauses, his eyes now avoiding Harry’s. He shuffles his feet once or twice before finally saying, “Yeah…I did. I checked the answering machine. There was nothing…”

Harry shrugs and reaches behind him to grab the plastic bag Thomas brought. “Okay. I’ll check it when I get home. What do you want for dinner? I’ll grab it on my way.”

“Whatever you want is fine. I don’t care. I guess I should get going so I’m not late. And you probably have to go back to work soon anyway.”

Watching the way Thomas reaches for his jacket, Harry instantly wishes he wasn’t so stupid. He shouldn’t have brought up the answering machine because then Thomas wouldn’t have to tell him the answer he’s used to but doesn’t want to hear and feel badly. He doesn’t want Thomas feeling bad for something that’s really all Louis’s fault. He doesn’t deserve to.

“Come here,” Harry mumbles, putting one arm out and grabbing onto the hem of Thomas’s t-shirt. He pulls the younger boy forward, lets him slip between his legs, lets his right hand slip just underneath the fabric of Thomas’s shirt and trace along his spine as he says, “I’m glad you came to visit me today. I was having a pretty shitty day before I saw you.”

Thomas smiles, ducking his head. Harry didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up, though. “Well like I said…I figured you didn’t have lunch and I also thought maybe you’d want some company other than your own thoughts today.”

“Well I can always use company to distract me from my thoughts. But really, I appreciate it, T.”

He presses his lips to Thomas’s forehead, his fingers splayed out on his lower back and for a second, he feels okay. He feels like he can get through the day without thinking about Jude or Louis or birthdays. He can just finish up his day and go home, completely avoid the mailbox and the answering machine and just eat dinner with Thomas and go on with his life.

But that second passes much too quickly and he’s right back to where he started, with a husband and son living somewhere in Manchester and a boyfriend who deserves someone who isn’t thinking about his little family (if you could even call them that) every second of every day.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry pulls into the driveway at half past seven, forty five minutes later than he usually does. He stopped off at the grocery store and picked up one of those microwavable pasta dinners and a decent looking pre-made salad. It’s not exactly the best meal in the world but it’ll have to do for today. Thomas has classes all day and Harry works so it’s not like either of them has the time to make anything better.

After Thomas visited him, the rest of his day went fairly decent. It was better than he thought it would be, at least. He made one more sale, causing his boss to praise him and offer him tickets to the next Manchester United match, which he politely declined. Football? No thank you. That was Louis’ thing, not his.

With a heavy sigh, Harry lifts the house key to the door and unlocks it, pushing it open and finding the living room lights on and the TV blasting. It’s set to the local news channel, but Thomas is nowhere to be found. As awful as it sounds, that makes Harry sigh in relief.

“Thomas? Where are you? You’re wasting electricity leaving this on, you know!”

He walks further into the house, heading for the kitchen so that he can put down the plastic bags he’s carrying. He pushes open the swinging door, finding the room empty and Thomas still nowhere in sight. Harry sighs and puts the bags on the counter, something sitting on the windowsill catching his eye. He reaches out for the white envelope and his heart constricts at the familiar “Return to Sender” stamp on the front. He should be used to this, he acknowledges as he runs his fingers along the address, the name ‘Harry Styles’ glaring up at him. He knew that he should have expected seeing this back in his hands, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“Harry? Is that you?”

Harry tosses the card back onto the counter, turning around and finding Thomas standing in front of the kitchen door. He’s rubbing a towel over his head and his boxers hang low on his hips. He must have been in the shower, Harry decides.

“Who else would it be?” he asks playfully, forcing a smile back onto his face. He doesn’t need Thomas worrying about him more than he already is. “I stopped by the food store and grabbed something for dinner. I just gotta put it in the microwave.”

“Okay,” Thomas responds, pulling the towel off his head. “I’m gonna get dressed-”

“That’s not exactly necessary."

Thomas’s cheeks burn red and he clutches the towel close to his chest. “Cheeky,” he says before darting from the room and Harry finds himself smiling for real this time. It’s small, but still. It’s not forced.

By the time Thomas comes back, Harry has dinner out on the table and is just pouring himself a glass of water. For the most part, they eat in silence, but Harry keeps catching Thomas looking at him and he knows he wants to talk but he’s too afraid to. Harry also knows that Thomas was the one who brought the returned letter in from the mailbox, so he’s aware of why Harry is a bit on edge.

“Do you think maybe the post office made a mistake?” he finally asks quietly, pushing his salad around his plate with his fork. “Maybe they messed up the address?”

Harry bites his lip, looking at his boyfriend of 8 months with an unreadable expression. He knows the younger boy just wants to cheer him up and is trying his best. And he really shouldn’t have to. Harry should be able to get over this, accept it and move on. Accept the fact that his son is miles away and isn’t going to receive a card from Harry for his eighth birthday all because of Louis.f.

As much as he wants to tell Thomas that the post office making a mistake is extremely unlikely, and that the more likely issue is that Louis just moved without telling Harry, he doesn’t. “Yeah. That might be it,” He responds, nodding slightly and taking a sip of his water. He smiles after putting the glass down, just to show Thomas that he’s not as sad as he was before. He’s faking it, yes, but if his faked happiness makes Thomas feel better, then it’s okay. Everything’s okay.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s later that night, after they clean up from dinner and watch a little bit of TV, they go to bed and Harry finds himself alone with his thoughts again. Thomas is curled up beside him, head resting on his shoulder and his arms around his waist, breathing in and out slowly. Tonight, his soft breathing is not enough to distract Harry from his thoughts like it usually is.

He tries to concentrate on Thomas, concentrate on how wonderful and awesome and amazing the younger boy is and that Harry should be thankful to have him in his life. Really, he is. More than thankful. But tonight’s just a bad night. One that’s going to consist of nothing but thoughts of his son and the family he had before Louis decided he’d had enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 3am but I can't stop. Enjoy.

“Are you sure you’re okay to stay home alone? You look really pale, Harry.”

Harry rolls over, pulling the covers down from over his head and he looks at Thomas, finding him standing at the foot of their bed. His head is tilted sideways, worrying his lip with his teeth while clutching two textbooks close to his chest.

“I’ll be fine. I can always call you if I need anything,” Harry responds softly, trying his best to sound under the weather. His boss bought his sick act, but Thomas knows him like the back of his hand (he thinks he does, at least) and the chances of him seeing through this are pretty high.

But he nods, then, smiling a bit as he says, “Okay well I’ll be back by three. Try and drink water and call me if you need me.”

Even if Harry really was sick and he needed Thomas, he probably wouldn’t call. It’s getting closer to the end of April, meaning finals will be coming up soon in early May. Thomas is one of those students who have to maintain their 4.0 GPA or else they will self-combust and lie on the floor, leaving themselves there to die. That’s how he explained himself to Harry, at least. So, Harry wouldn’t want to keep him from his classes just to come home and take care of him.

Thomas is gone within ten minutes. Harry heard him moving about in their kitchen which is right below their bedroom, probably making himself coffee and toast and trying to figure out where Harry hid the card that got sent back. He knows Harry takes them and hides them away but he’s never been able to figure out where. Harry knows it’s just because he’s curious. But once the door closes, Harry sits up, running a hand through his hair and looking over at his closet doors.

He stumbles out of bed, still kind of groggy from sleeping, before going to his closet. He kneels down and pulls the closet doors open, revealing a mess of shoes and shirts and belts and other clothing items littering the floor.

It doesn’t take too long to push everything aside and get to the very back corner where a small shoebox is hidden. His hands manage to grab it and pull it out easily, resting it in his lap and removing the lid.

Inside there’s a mess of assorted objects. There’s a small paperback book that used to belong to Louis (well, if he wanted it back it’s not like Harry would say no) and twenty or so glossy colorful pictures scattered around. But the first thing he grabs is the small bundle, held together by a blue rubber band. It’s a stack of envelopes, all addressed to the same person. All stamped with the same “Return to Sender” stamp. He stares at them for a few seconds, his eyes blinking back tears. He suddenly feels over-emotional and that’s a sign that he really shouldn’t be doing this right now. But Thomas is at school so this is really the only time he has if he doesn’t want to have to explain himself.

Sighing, he opens his bedside table drawer and pulls out the newest returned card, the one that he received back yesterday, and slides it into the bundle. There’s a little less than a year’s worth of cards in there. Holiday cards, ‘missing you’ cards, and now a birthday card. Harry finds himself wondering how many more he’ll have in here and the fact that he will probably never speak to Louis and get the new, correct address out of him is terrifying. For the past two years, he’s been separated from his son and that’s been difficult enough. But for the rest of his life? Harry’s not sure if he will be able to handle that.

He goes to put the stack of letters back into the box, but something catches his eye. It’s been a while since he’s looked inside and seeing the photo of him and Louis at graduation is a strange sight. He pulls it out and holds it up in front of him. It’s been folded in half and it’s a little bit worn, but it still causes Harry to smile through his tears. They were eighteen and happy and were about to move into their first flat together. After three years of dating and a lot of discussion between both of their parents, they were finally going to take a step into the real world and live life on their own. And maybe that’s where their downfall was.

He looks down again, ready to put the picture back and close the box back up, but then he sees something else – something that makes his heart ache and his eyes fill with even more tears. He grabs the sonogram, his fingers gripping it tightly. In the corner, in Louis’ handwriting, it reads ‘five months – our baby boy’ and a little hand drawn smiley face at the end. He remembers sitting in the car, on the way back from the doctor’s appointment. Louis was practically crying, he was so happy and Harry couldn’t really blame him. They were nineteen. They were happy together.

Harry’s not really entirely sure what happened to make Louis leave. It was five years after they got married. Six years since they had Jude. Yes, they had been fighting a lot. And okay, they weren’t even sleeping in the same bed anymore. But they didn’t even really try to fix it. Louis shot down every suggestion Harry had, from marriage counseling to just simply talking. He gave up on their marriage and on July 25th, he packed up all of his things and moved to Manchester, taking their son with him. Harry’s heart was pretty shattered as it was, but that just made it ten times worse.

They kept in contact for a full year after that. Harry would talk to Jude on the phone, asking him about his days at school and all the friends he made. The six year old would ask Harry when he was going to see him again and Harry would tell him ‘soon, I promise’. And Harry wasn’t even lying. He thought for sure that Louis would get a grip on himself and eventually come back home. But after a few months, it started to become more and more obvious that Louis was drifting away from him and getting back together wasn’t something he could count on.

About a year and a month after he left, Louis cut off all contact. He moved, changed his number, and never told Harry. Harry tried to call a million times and he tried writing, but his calls never went through and his letters got sent back. He tried everything, but Louis didn’t want to be found. As much as Harry wanted to say that it was shocking, he really couldn’t. Because Louis had been pulling away from him and Harry didn’t put in enough effort to hold on.

Harry finds himself thinking about what could have possibly driven Louis to the point where he felt he needed to cut off all contact. He and Harry were – and still are – married. They had a son together. Things should have been fine. They should have been able to talk things out after taking some time apart. But they couldn’t seem to do that. And then, Harry’s brain reminds him exactly why Louis cut off contact. It was Harry’s fault, despite what Thomas claims.

He met Thomas at work. He sold him a flat, giving him a pretty good deal on it too. Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t think Thomas was hot right from the start. And maybe he was a little bit distracted by how attractive he was. It doesn’t really matter though, because Thomas obviously felt the same way. He came back to the agency quite a few times after that, just to talk to Harry and get to know him. Harry wasn’t oblivious – he knew what Thomas was doing, knew that he was trying to pursue a relationship with him. Harry went along with it. He was lonely and missing Louis and he figured, ‘Louis is gone. Louis left me. Why shouldn’t I start moving on too?’ and that was that.

Thomas took the fact that Harry was still married pretty well. Extremely well, actually. When Harry told him, he simply shrugged his shoulders, saying, “I have time. I can wait” and Harry smiled, kissed him hard and knew that he just found someone that would help him move on with his life.

After Harry to Louis he met someone and was dating again, Louis stopped called and changed all his contact information. Thomas blames himself, Harry knows he does. One time after a night out, Thomas was extremely intoxicated and talking a mile a minute, he told Harry how badly he felt. That it was his fault that he doesn’t talk to Louis or his son anymore and he beats himself up for it every single day. For some reason, Harry can’t bring himself to tell Thomas that he’s wrong. That it was Harry’s fault. He tried to talk to Louis one night about separating legally. Tried talking about getting joint custody of Jude. Louis was livid. Madder than Harry has ever heard him before. He hung up and told Harry he’d call when he wasn’t so pissed off. But he never did. Instead, he moved, changed his number, and hasn’t contacted Harry since.

Now that he’s already broken down the wall he’s built up over past year, it wouldn’t hurt too much to continue looking through all of the shit he’s kept hidden away. Harry reaches back into the box and picks up the wedding band sitting at the bottom. He rolls it around in his palm, frowning more at how dull it looks. It used to be shiny and new but not after a year of sitting in a dark box in the back of a closet. It’s kind of ironic in a way, Harry thinks, because he feels like it’s an accurate portrayal of his life. With Louis in it, it was shiny and exciting and after a year without him, it’s lost its shine.

He’s not sure if he’ll ever stop loving Louis. Sure, he feels strongly about Thomas. He tells him he loves him at least once a day. Does he always mean it? Harry can't tell, but Thomas’s only got a small piece of his heart, if that. He’s wonderful and perfect and everything Harry could ever want in a boyfriend. But he’s not Louis. He’s not the man he married and had a son with. Harry feels terrible comparing Thomas to Louis sometimes but he can’t help it. But he also knows that he’s going to have to stop that, stop comparing the two because Louis will never be in his life again at this rate. And he’s got Thomas. Thomas should be good enough for him. He SHOULD, but deep down Harry knows there will always be a Louis shaped hole where his heart once was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave some comments please. Ya girl needs constant attention and reassurance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 5am now and I have up to chapter 5 written and edited. I'll work on the rest when I wake up!

At work the following Monday, Harry has just finished writing up a report on all his sales and rentals last week to give in to his boss. He’s leaning as far back as he can in his chair, keeping his eyes glued to the framed photo of Jude that’s on his desk. Thomas framed it for him for their six month anniversary gift and it’s definitely one of the best gifts Harry’s gotten in awhile. He sighs then, leaning forward again and picking the frame up. He smiles at the photo, remembering the day it was taken. Jude was five years old, and for his birthday Louis and Harry decided to take him to the aquarium. In the picture, he’s smiling and standing in front of the dolphin exhibit and Harry wishes he could go back to that day. He and Louis weren’t fighting yet and everything was fine.

“Hey Harry? There’s a call for you on line one.”

Harry looks up, finding his boss, Marshall, standing in the doorway. He nods towards Harry’s phone, holding up five fingers to tell him that he’s only got five minutes to take this before he needs to get back to work. Harry sighs again and puts the photo down. He wasn’t expecting a phone call from anyone; his mum only calls every Thursday and his dad calls every couple of Friday’s. He’s going to put his money on Thomas. That’s the only other person it could really be.

“London Estates. Harry Styles speaking. Can I help you?” He says automatically, knowing Marshall is probably listening in somehow and making sure that Harry is answering the phones the correct way. Even if it is just Thomas, Harry has to be professional still.

“…Hi.”

It’s one word. One simple little word that barely means anything more than ‘hello’. But from that one word, Harry’s heart skips a beat and he drops the phone onto the desk. It makes a loud, obnoxious noise and it nearly falls over the edge and onto the floor, but Harry manages to make his brain respond and he grabs it before it can drop. His hands are shaking, though, as he puts the phone back up to his ear. He’s not really sure what to say next because shit. It’s been a whole fucking year.

“Um. H-hi. I…are you…I don’t-”

Louis lets out a loud sigh and Harry can picture him sitting at a table, running one hand through his hair. He’s probably drinking tea, too, Harry decides.

“I’m sorry to bother you at work. It took me forever to track you down and I could only find your work number.”

Harry’s heart is hammering against his chest, almost too loud for him to really hear Louis. But he can hear him enough to notice that Louis’ voice doesn’t sound right. He sounds worn out and tired and scared. And that’s not right. Louis was always happy and upbeat, all the time.

“Anyway… I have to talk to you, Harry. But not while you’re at work. Can you give me your home number and I can call you later?”

“Y-yeah, sure. What’s going on?”

He can hear Louis moving around wherever he is, pushing aside papers and mumbling things that Harry can’t hear. Harry wants to ask him where Jude is; he wants to ask if he can talk to him. But he can tell that Louis isn’t exactly in the best mood and he’s in a rush to get off the phone. So he refrains, instead biting on his bottom lip and waiting for Louis to speak again.

“I can’t tell you right now, Harry. Give me your number. I’ll call you at eight. Will you be home?”

“My hours haven’t changed so…yeah.”

He gives Louis the ten digit number, speaking slowly so Louis catches each one. He doesn’t want Louis to write it down wrong and risk him not being able to call him later. This has to go right.

“Okay.” Louis says when he finishes writing down the number. “Well, talk to you later then. Bye.”

He hangs up quickly, not letting Harry put another word in. It’s not until after Harry puts his phone down that it all hits him at once. Louis just called him for the first time in a year. He sounded upset and tired and nervous. He has to talk to Harry about something, but not while he’s at work. There’s something going on and now it’s making Harry really nervous. Is it something bad? What if something happened to Louis? Or Jude? Or both of them? Something bad?

“Harry.”

Marshall’s voice interrupts his panicked thoughts, and Harry finds him standing in his door again, thumb motioning towards files on his desk. Marshall is gone a second later, leaving Harry to stare at the spot he was standing in with wide eyes. His hands are shaking and his mind is racing. One year later and he might just be getting what he wanted.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Harry worries the rest of the day. He doesn’t know what to expect when Louis calls him and that scares him. He used to know Louis like the back of his hand; used to be able to see what he was going to throw at him next. Not now. Not after so long apart and absolutely no contact. His brain comes up with so many different scenarios, not all of them good, and he’s making himself sick from thinking so much. But luckily Thomas is able to provide him with a good distraction.

He doesn’t tell Thomas about the phone call. It’s not that he doesn’t want to or anything like that. Because he totally would have. It’s just that maybe when Harry got home from work at six, Thomas was just getting out of the shower and okay, that proved to be a really good distraction for Harry. Now they’re on their bed, Harry leaning over Thomas’ body with one hand curled around his hip and the other gripping onto his hair. Thomas’ skin is still damp from the shower and his hair is wet and everything about this right now is turning Harry on and the phone call from Louis? Way at the back of his mind.

Thomas squirms underneath him, pulling out of the kiss and pushing at Harry’s shoulder. “You’re squishing me,” he whines childishly, pouting as he tries to get more comfortable. He moves around until Harry just decides to flip them over, Thomas straddling him and Harry lying on his back.

“Okay?” he asks, reaching up pulling the younger boy closer.

“Yeah,” Thomas breathes before moving back in to connect their lips again.

Harry quickly gets them back into it, letting his fingers trace the waistband of Thomas’s boxers and then slightly slipping underneath, causing him to inhale sharply and tighten his grip on Harry’s shoulder. His hand slips up Harry’s shirt, leaving gentle touches as he pushes the shirt up.

They get to the point where the only thing completely separating them is Harry’s boxers and just when Thomas is about to assist Harry in getting them off, the house phone rings, breaking the silence and causing Harry’s heart to leap into his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos will inspire me to write and edit faster ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on chapter nine already. I. Can't. Stop. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Harry’s hands start to shake as he picks up the cordless phone in the kitchen. His thumb hovers over the ‘answer’ button and for a second, he contemplates letting it go to the answering machine. Because really, for the past year he’s been waiting and hoping for Louis to get into contact with him. Maybe it’s about time Louis was waiting for Harry.

But then he remembers that the answering machine is in the bedroom and that’s where Thomas currently is, probably wondering why the hell Harry just ran out to answer the phone. Harry’s not entirely sure how he’s going to react when he finds out exactly who’s on the other line, but Harry would like to prolong that for a little bit. So, with that thought, he presses the correct button and holds the phone up to his ear, saying a shaky, “Hello?”

“Harry. Hi. I was hoping you’d be the one to answer.”

Like before, Louis sounds tired and now Harry thinks he might even sound a bit…concerned. About what, Harry can only imagine.

“Who else would it be?” Harry jokes nervously.

When Louis doesn’t respond, Harry realizes he probably said the wrong thing. Thomas could have answered, he realizes and he feels guilty, suddenly, even though he probably shouldn’t.

“Uh. Right um. You said…You said you called because you need to talk to me…”

Louis sighs. “Right. So, I’m going to tell you something and I don’t want you freaking out, okay? I…I can’t deal with you freaking out over this. I just need you to be as calm as possible.”

“Louis…Louis you’re scaring me,” Harry says, lifting his eyes when he hears Thomas stumble into the kitchen. He puts his finger up to his lips, signaling for Thomas to be quieter and Thomas just glares at him.

“I…Jude’s s-sick, Harry,” Louis chokes out and he stumbles over his words. “He’s really sick.”

Harry feels his heart drop, his stomach twist painfully. He feels as though Louis just physically pushed him backwards and all the air left his lungs. He looks up at Thomas who’s now leaning against the counter in his boxers and one of Harry’s oversized jumpers and a curious expression on his face. Harry blinks a few times more than necessary as he struggles to comprehend exactly what Louis just told him.

“Hey, Harry,” Thomas says, walking over and resting one hand on Harry’s back, “Harry you need to breathe.” He smacks him in the middle of his back, just hard enough to break Harry from his thoughts and his brain remembers to inhale, gaining enough oxygen to continue his conversation with Louis.

He swallows hard and presses the phone closer to his ear as he asks, “W-what do you mean by ‘sick’, Louis? Is he-”

“He was diagnosed with leukemia. Acute myeloid leukemia. It’s…He was diagnosed with it six months ago, Harry, and I-”

“Six months ago?!” Harry pushes his chair back from the table to stand up, one hand moving to tangle into his own hair. He tugs on it out of frustration. “What the fuck, Louis?! And you didn’t tell me?”

Louis inhales sharply and Thomas comes around to Harry’s side, eyes wide as he whispers, “It’s Louis? Can you trace the call?”

Harry shakes his head and waves him away, not really in the right mindset to even think about that right now. “How the fuck could you keep something that big from me? I mean, seriously Louis! I know you might have forgotten but he’s my son too!”

“Yeah Harry. I know.” Louis pauses, letting out a shaky breath. Even through his anger, Harry suddenly feels slightly bad for him. Like he wants to reach through the phone and hold louis against his chest. “I’m sorry, alright?”

“Whatever,” Harry mumbles as he sits back down in his seat, hand carding through his hair anxiously. “Tell me where you are, Louis. I’m going to come there and I’m going to see him. You can’t keep him from me anymore.”

“That’s why I was calling,” Louis defends himself, his voice straining as he starts to get more stressed. “To tell you –”

“Let me talk to him.”

“You can’t.”

“Louis. Put him on the phone.”

“No really, you can’t. I’m home. He’s in the hospital overnight. I just came to get his Dino. You know he hasn't slept without since you brought it home for him”

Harry feels his chest constrict at Louis saying the word ‘home’ like that.  
“I…fuck. I can’t believe you right now.” Harry looks up at the ceiling, his eyes filled with water. He blinks the tears away and presses his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Just give me your address. I’m going to get the next flight there.”

Harry motions towards the kitchen counter where a stack of sticky notes and a pen rests beside the phone chargers. Thomas doesn’t hesitate, knowing exactly what Harry needs, and he grabs the notes off the counter, as well as the pen.

“Okay. Um…Once you figure out a flight and when it comes in…Call me on…on my cell. I’ll give you the number.”

Harry can hear the pain in his voice; can tell how difficult it was to say that he’d give Harry his number. But he doesn’t even care right now and he takes the sticky notes from his boyfriend, focusing on every word Louis says as he recites his address.

\--------------------------------------------------------

“They’re all so expensive…”

Harry’s fingers tap on the table as he watches Thomas scroll through the list of flights out of Heathrow. He’s been off the phone with Louis for twenty minutes now, already explained the situation to Thomas and now he just wants to start getting things done. He needs to book a flight, pack his stuff and figure out where he can stay in Doncaster which is apparently where Louis lives now….in Yorkshire...not Manchester. Just one more thing he kept from Harry these past few years. There’s so much he needs to do and he feels like he doesn’t have any time to do it.

“I don’t care about price right now, Thomas, believe it or not,” He spits out as he runs his hands over his face, “My son’s sick. I can’t think of money right now.”

Thomas’s face falls, and he bites his lip. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I-”

“Just get us the earliest flight tomorrow. I don’t care about price. It’s fine. First class, too, okay? I’ll go start packing.” Harry stands up, ready to head for the stairs, but then he catches the look on Thomas’s face. “What’s the problem?”

“I…Us? Me too?”

“Yes…”

“Harry…” The younger boy sighs and shakes his head, “I can’t. I have class…Finals are coming up really quick and I can’t miss. And besides, I don’t think Louis would be very happy to see me there too.”

Harry blinks. “You’re my boyfriend. I don’t care what Louis thinks. I want you there.”

“I can’t, Harry. I have school. Trust me, it’s better that I stay behind.” Thomas looks up at Harry, a desperate look on his face. “Harry really. I’ll just cause problems. You should go see Jude and be able to hang out with him. Deal with everything without issues between me and Louis. Because you know it’s inevitable if that’s really why he stopped contact.”

It makes sense, really. Harry knows it does. But going down toDoncaster, alone and insecure and nervous and completely unknowing of what to expect? Harry doesn’t like that. Having Thomas with him would make things easier and more comfortable. But, at the same time, he’s right when he says it would complicate things. And Harry wants this to be as easy as possible.

“I…okay,” he finally agrees, breathing out and trying to calm himself down. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine on my own. I’ll just be calling you every hour,” He smiles to show that he’s just kidding around and being overdramatic (and yet at the same time he’s kind of not) even when inside, he’s falling apart.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reunion time....

“To: Thomas  
I wish you were with me right now.”

Harry frowns, his thumb running across the screen of his cell phone. He has to turn it off soon, considering the flight’s going to leave, but he just wanted to text Thomas once more before it did. The younger boy’s in class but he’s probably got his phone out, hidden beneath a textbook or something, waiting for Harry’s message. The seat next to him is empty, and Harry is thankful for that. He’s sure that throughout the flight, he’s going to be jittery and nervous and would not be very pleasant to sit next to.

“From: Thomas   
6:19am Apr 19th  
You will be fine! I love you :)”

With Thomas’s response, Harry sighs and holds down the ’lock’ button, turning the cell phone off. It flashes the phone logo and then goes blank and Harry slips it into his carry-on. He’ll pull it back out when the plane lands in Doncaster and he’ll call Thomas as soon as he can and Thomas will have to calm him down. He already warned Thomas before he left so the younger boy should be expecting it. Hopefully he’ll be prepared to do damage control because Harry knows he’s going to be a wreck.

Louis’ address and cell number are written down in numerous places. On his phone; on a piece of paper in his jeans pocket; on the back page of the book he brought to read. Plus, he’s memorized them. There’s no way he’s messing this up by getting Louis’ address or number wrong. This is his chance at being in Jude’s life again, no matter how short-lived it might be.

At that thought, Harry’s eyes start to water and he has to remind himself to take a deep breath and just relax. Jude’s going to be perfectly fine. They’re going to help him get better with treatments and anything else they need to do. It’s all gonna work out fine.

What if it doesn’t?

Harry’s not going to think too much about that right now.

\--------------------------------------------------------

The flight lands on time at nine twenty and as soon as he gets the okay from the flight attendants, he gets his cell phone out and turns it on, anxious to talk to Thomas before getting off the plane. He’s nervous and excited and freaked out all at the same time and he just needs someone to talk to him and get him to relax again. Maybe he should have taken the flight attendant up on that offer for that free shot of vodka. She definitely had a crush on him.

“I’m assuming you’re there,” is what Thomas answers the call with and Harry can tell that he’s smiling.

“Yeah. Just landed. They haven’t let us off yet but probably soon. Um. How was class?”

“Same as always. So are you going to get a cab? And take that to Louis’s house?”

Harry nods to himself and picks at a stray thread on his jeans. “Yeah. I’ll find one outside or have one of the front desks call for one for me.”

“Okay. You better text me that you got there safely. Louis knows you’re coming right?”

“Yeah. He knows what time my flight gets in and everything. I…I’m kind of freaking out. I don’t know what to expect and-”

“Hey,” Thomas interrupts, his voice soft and soothing, “Breathe. Relax. You’re fine. You’re going to see Louis and nothing will be weird. You’ll see Jude and find out he’s going to be okay. There’s no reason to freak.”

“You’re right,” Harry says as the announcement comes over the speaker that they’re going to be letting everyone off, “You’re always right. Thanks for reassuring me.”

“That’s my job as your boyfriend, isn’t it?”

Harry grins, “Yeah. That’s very true. Anyway, I’m gonna go and try and figure out where my bags and stuff are. I’ll let you know when I get to Louis’ and then I’ll call you and fill you in on all the details when I get to my hotel room tonight.”

“Okay, good luck. I love you, Harry.”

“You too. Bye. ”

He hangs up, slipping the phone into the front pocket of his jeans.He takes adeep breath before getting up, reaching for his carry on, and exiting the plane.   
\--------------------------------------------------------

Louis lives on a dead-end street. It’s in a quiet neighborhood with green lawn after green lawn after green lawn. Everything seems so nice and perfect that it makes Harry, if possible, even more nervous to be here.

He pays the cab driver and tips him, declining help with his bags. He’s only got two of them and they’re not that heavy anyway, so he can really manage on his own just fine. He double and triple checks the house number before beginning the walk up the path, his eyes dissecting the two story, off-white house. It looks well-kept, he decides, eyeing the perfectly edged grass and cute little pink and purple flowers. The house is nicely painted and the grass is currently being watered. Clearly Louis is doing pretty well for himself. Not that Harry expected otherwise.

One thing that makes him smile as he steps up to the front door are the various children’s toys that he can see littering the grass. Toy shovels and little racecars that Harry remembers Jude loving when he still lived with him. It tugs on Harry’s heart, in a good way for once.

But now he finds himself at the front door, the doorbell practically glaring at him. He has to ring it, he knows he does. So he reaches out and presses it, hearing it ring inside the house from where he’s standing outside. He can hear a dog barking, but it’s kind of distant so he can’t tell if it’s coming from Louis’ house or not.

He quickly wonders if Louis looks the same. He probably does. And will it be awkward at first? Absolutely. Will he be happy to see Harry? That’s the only thing Harry can’t be sure of. It could go either way really. He hears the front door unlock and his chest tightens out of nerves. Here goes nothing, really.

The door swings open, but it’s not Louis on the other side, and that makes his heart drop, for some reason. Instead, there’s boy with dark brown hair and kind blue eyes. He stares at Harry with a crooked smile and pushes open the screen door.

“Hey. You’re Harry?” he asks in an Irish accent that takes Harry by surprise. “Come on in and put your bags down over there.”

Harry narrows his eyes because seriously – who even is this guy? But he walks inside all the same and puts his bags down where the man is pointing, right beside a couch. He stands up straight, feeling awkward and confused. This guy…is he Louis’ boyfriend? Or something like that? Is he romantically involved with Louis? For some reason, that thought upsets Harry way more than it should.

“It’s really nice to finally meet you,” the man says, reaching out and taking Harry’s hand into his own. He shakes it firmly, still smiling. “My name’s Niall. Niall Horan. I’m Louis’ roommate.”

Harry stares, blinks a few times, and then nods. “Right. I…Is Louis home? He said-”

“No,” Niall states, clapping his hands together and widening his eyes. He’s a freak, Harry has decided. “He’s at the hospital with Jude. But he gave Liam and I strict instructions to drive you to the hospital as soon as you got here.”

“Who’s Liam?” Harry asks.

“I’m Liam.” The voice comes from across the room and Harry looks over, finding another man stepping into the house through the back door. Right by his side is a dog – probably the one Harry heard barking before – and he slides the back door closed, making sure to lock it. “Go lay down, George,” he says to the dog, pointing in the direction of the kitchen, and then he’s making his way towards Harry and Niall, his face not giving away any kind of emotion. The dog has ignored his instruction to lie down and instead wanders over to Harry, looking at him cautiously and sniffing at his shoes.

“Liam this is Harry. Harry this is Liam. He’s a good friend of Louis. And me too. But he knew Louis first,” Niall explains, motioning between both Harry and Liam. “Anyway, you both ready to go to the hospital?”

“You can stay here,” Liam tells him, “I’ll just drop Harry off and then go pick up dinner so we have something for when they get back with Jude.”

“Oh okay. That’s fine, cause I actually do have work to do,” Niall agrees, taking a few steps backwards towards the hallway, “Text me when you’re on your way back.”

“Will do. Come on, Harry.”

Liam moves to open the front door, not giving Harry another look. Harry has pegged him as an asshole. He seems rude, especially since he won’t even look at Harry and he’s already halfway down the path towards his car. But of course, only time will tell if Harry’s assumptions are actually right. Maybe he’s just having an off day.

“See you later!” Niall calls out as Harry walks down the front steps to follow Liam. Niall is nice, Harry decides. Weird, definitely. But a nice weird. A well-meaning weird.

“So Louis said that you can just go up to the front desk, tell them who you are, show ID and then they’ll tell you where to go. He already mentioned that you’d be coming so they’re expecting you,” Liam explains as he merges onto the highway.

“Right…Okay.”

Liam doesn’t say another word the entire car ride, which only adds to Harry’s suspicions that yes, he’s an asshole. He taps his fingers on the steering wheel and hums along to the song on the radio but other than that, nothing. No other communication with Harry. Well, not that Harry tried to make conversation either.

It takes another twenty minutes to get to the hospital, and Harry takes a mental note to complain about that to Louis. That’s a bit too far of a drive. What if something happens and Jude needs to get there on short notice?

Liam parks right outside, looking at Harry as he speaks for the first time in nearly a half hour. “Good luck, mate. You’ll need it.”

Harry’s not sure exactly what to respond with. Thanks? Yeah, no. So instead he just nods in acknowledgement and opens up the passenger’s door, stepping out onto the pavement. “Um. Thanks for the ride.”

“It’s no problem. Tell Louis to call me when you guys are ready to leave.”

“Sure. Yeah, okay. I’ll do that.”

Liam nods as Harry shuts the car door and he puts the car back in drive. “See you later, then.”

Before he drives away, he gives Harry a sympathetic look and it makes Harry more nervous than he was. He does his best to shake it off, to ignore it as much as he can, before turning and walking towards the hospital’s automatic doors. Inside, it smells like bleach and other disinfectants and okay, yeah it’s comforting to know that it’s clean, but at the same time, it makes Harry nauseous and uneasy. He hates hospitals. And the fact that his son is here is really unsettling.

The front desk isn’t crowded. In fact, there’s nobody around except for one nurse sitting behind it at the computer. Her fingernails clack on the keys as she types information in, probably about one of the patients, and it takes a few seconds for her to realize that Harry is standing in front of her.

“Can I help you?” She asks, grinning widely and showing off her white, although slightly crooked, teeth. Her eyes trail up and down his body and he feels a bit uncomfortable because uh. Yeah.

“My name’s Harry Styles. I’m here to visit my son-”

“Harry.”

The nurse behind the desk leans to her left, looking past Harry and smiling and waving. Harry hasn’t turned around yet, but he knows that voice. The same voice that called him up yesterday. The same voice he fell in love with and the same voice that broke him into a million pieces. He’s not entirely sure what he’s expecting to see or what he’s expecting Louis to tell him, but he’s got a few ideas. He hopes they’re all wrong, though.

But Louis looks exactly the same as he did when he left. Same height, same body, same hair color. Same everything. Except for one obvious difference. He’s tired. He’s exhausted. He isn’t happy. The way he’s standing, shoulders slumped arms crossed over his chest, makes Harry’s heart ache painfully.

Harry walks towards him unsurely, not knowing what he should do, really. Does he shake Louis’s hand? Does he hug him? Punch him in the face? All of those options seem like good ideas to him – especially that last one.

“Hi, Harry,” Louis says once Harry gets closer, his lips turning up into a small, forced smile. “You um. You look good.”

The younger boy nods, not sure what else to do. “Thanks…You do too.”

“Jude’s excited to see you,” Louis bites his lip as he stares up at Harry. “He’s been bouncing around all day waiting for you.”

It’s weird to Harry that they’re just standing in the middle of a hospital lobby, seeing each other for the first time in two years. No hugging, no expression of how much one missed the other. He wasn’t expecting much, but maybe a bit more than this.

“He’s in the Pediatric Unit on the third floor,” Louis continues, turning slightly and motioning towards the elevator. “We’re waiting for a doctor to come in and give us the go-ahead to go home.”

“I want to talk to the doctor,” Harry says as he follows Louis towards the elevators, “I wanna be filled in on everything.”

Louis nods as he presses the button. “Right. Well I mean…I could do that. We might be waiting for him for a little bit.”

“Whatever. I just want to know everything that’s going on. And why you never called me. And why you just decided that now would be a good time to let me know.”

“Maybe that could be a discussion that could occur when we get home.”

Harry doesn’t protest. He just follows Louis into the elevator and keeps his mouth shut. Clearly Louis has an idea of exactly how he wants the next few days to go. Harry will try his best to go along with that.

\--------------------------------------------------------

The Pediatric Unit is exactly what Harry expected it to be – depressing. As he follows Louis down the hallways, he sees two young girls laughing and chasing each other in the opposite direction. They’re here for a reason and that makes Harry’s heart sink. They don’t deserve to be sick so young. They’ve barely had any time to live.

“This is his room,” Louis says after walking down hallway after hallway for three minutes. “He’s probably going to freak out. You um. You know how he gets when he’s been kept inside all day…”

Harry wants to make some comment about how he’s forgotten that detail – about how he has no idea what Jude’s like anymore. Two years? That’s a long time for someone’s personality to shift one way or another. Especially for a young, impressionable kid who’s going through some of the most crucial years of development. But he bites his tongue and nods, watching Louis push the door open.

The first thing he sees is a large group of balloons tied to the end of the hospital bed. They vary in color and saying, but they all give across the same ‘get well soon’ message and Harry feels like there’s something stuck in his throat. The bed’s occupied by a small, frail looking boy that Harry would be able to recognize from a mile away. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed on top of the sheets in jeans and a blue Star Wars t-shirt. His shoulders are hunched as he looks down at the iPad Harry sent him for his birthday last year. 

He needs a haircut, is the first thing that runs through Harry’s brain. His dark brown curls are hanging in his beautiful blue eyes and it’s getting really long in the back. He’s too thin, also. Like he hasn’t been eating properly for weeks. But other than that, he seems okay.

Harry feels Louis’ hand on his lower back, gently pushing him further into the room and that’s when the little boy in the bed looks up from his ipad. His lips turn upwards into a smile and he drops the electronic onto the bed.

“Dad! You’re here!” he exclaims, trying to get his legs out from underneath him and get out of the bed as quickly as possible, but he’s having slight difficulty because he’s moving too fast and stumbling over his own two feet.

Harry laughs, although his eyes are filled with water and all he really wants to do is break down and start crying. He walks the short distance between the door and Jude’s bed and he bends down and opens his arms just in time for the eight year old to throw himself into his embrace. Harry’s arms wrap tightly around his small frame, with no intent on letting go anytime soon.

“I missed you,” Jude says, his voice muffled because of how tightly Harry is hugging him.

“I missed you too.”

\--------------------------------------------------------

“If he’s as sick as you’re saying he is, I don’t understand why he’s not still in the hospital, getting treatment. I don’t know much about leukemia but I know-”

“You know how I said he was diagnosed six months ago, Harry?” Louis interrupts, pushing his tea cup away from him. His fingers splay out on top of the kitchen table and he stares down at them, sighing deeply before continuing. “We did treatment already. We did chemo; we did bone marrow transplants. Both didn’t work. His body rejected everything the doctor’s tried. They said…they said there isn’t much more they can do.”

Harry blinks twice, letting this new information sink in. He can hear Jude in the living room, talking to Louis’ roommate Niall about some funny video he saw earlier. Niall seems to be humoring him and responding with questions. As much of a nice guy that Niall is, Harry hates that he’s spent the last two years with his son and Harry hasn’t.

“What do you mean by ‘not much more they can do’?”

Louis groans and puts his elbows on the table, running his hands over his face. “I mean, there’s nothing more anyone can do. We tried to help him get better. Jude…He’s not going to get better.”

Louis’s words repeat themselves in Harry’s head, echoing and bouncing off each other and he has to close his eyes, suddenly feeling more than overwhelmed. But once his eyes are closed, they just flash across his eyelids, not letting him escape. His son’s dying. There’s no treatment or medicine that can help him. And Harry’s missed out on time that he could have spent with him all because of Louis.

He lifts his head, opens his eyes to find Louis staring back at him, his cheeks wet and eyes red. “When did you find out the treatments failed?”

“A week ago. As soon as they told me I went searching for your contact info Harry. I swear-”

“So for six months, you were taking him to doctors and specialists, getting him treatment and hoping he’d get better, and not once did you think I would want to know? That I would want to be involved? Maybe I could have helped, Louis! What if I could have done something?”

“I was scared-”

“You just completely blocked me out! I could have…I could have fucking had the cops looking for you and you could have been charged with kidnapping, do you realize that?”

Louis nods, “And why didn’t you do that, then?”

“I…” Harry sighs, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, the pressure somehow better than looking at Louis. “Because. I don’t know. Thomas told me to. Thomas tried to get me to do it so many times. But I couldn’t.”

“Well.” Louis stands up, avoiding Harry’s eyes. “Thomas seems like a guy with common sense.”

“Louis-”

“Where is he, anyway? Why isn’t he here with you?” Louis spits out, bringing his and Harry’s cups over to the sink, “What, did he not want make the trip?”

Harry knew Thomas would be brought up eventually. He knew Louis would get all pissy about it too, so this isn’t surprising. “He has school, Louis. He can’t miss. He’d be here with me if he could. He’s not like you. He doesn’t just give up on someone-”

“He’s still in school? What is he, eighteen?”

“No. He’s twenty three and you know what? I’m done talking to you right now. I’m not going to stand here and watch you flip out over the fact that I’ve moved on from you.”

Harry hates this. Hates that they’re fighting about Thomas while their son has an incurable disease and doesn’t have much life left to live. He hates that he even fed the argument, throwing in a jab at Louis’s abandonment. He hates everything about this right now and he doesn’t know how to turn it into something better.

\-------------------------------------------------------- 

Leaving Jude to go to his hotel room is a million times more difficult than Harry thought it would be. The eight year old is clinging to him, arms wrapped around his neck with Harry easily supporting him. He’s probably the same weight as he was when Louis took him away. That just shows how sick he is, because after two years, he should have grown.

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning. I’ll hang out with you all day, promise,” Harry says, pressing his lips to the top of Jude’s head. He has to put him down in order to leave but his arms are betraying him and refuse to let him go. After two years of not being able to hold him, he’s making up for lost time, he guesses.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Jude questions, “And eat breakfast with me?”

Harry laughs, “Sure. Tell Daddy to call me when you wake up and I’ll come over and eat breakfast with you. And then we can do something fun. Sound okay?”

Jude agrees, and Harry puts him back down so that he’s standing. He’s gotten taller since the last time he saw him, which isn’t surprising. Louis might be on the smaller side but Harry is well over six feet. maybe he’ll get his height from Harry as well. 

“I’ll drive you to your hotel, Harry,” Niall offers, grabbing his car keys off the coffee table. He avoids looking at Louis, who’s glaring at him, while he motions towards the front door. “Ready?”

The drive isn’t as awkward as it was with Liam. Niall makes light conversation. Stupid things about how it’s supposed to rain tomorrow and how badly the plants in the backyard need to be watered. Harry has never seen one man be so concerned about the health of his yard plants.

But then he starts talking about how excited Jude was when he found out Harry was coming to visit. How he begged Louis to buy Harry’s favorite ice cream at the store and how he asked if they could have a sleepover in the living room and stay up all night like they used to do. Niall smiles the whole way, but Harry finds himself trying his best not to cry.

“I know Louis is being difficult right now, Harry,” Niall says as he pulls in front of the hotel’s main lobby doors and turns the car off. “But imagine what must be going through his head right now? Nothing good, really.”

“’Difficult’ is Louis’ middle name,” Harry mumbles as he opens the door and grabs his bags out of the trunk of the car. “Thanks for the ride, Niall.”

\--------------------------------------------------------

The hotel room is nice. Nicer than Harry expected. It has a double bed, a fridge, a bathroom and an electric kettle which is all Harry really needs. The bonus is the flat screen TV with movie channels that he can surf through if he can’t sleep. Which is a guarantee tonight.

He and Louis still have a lot of things to talk about. And he wants to call up Jude’s doctors and get all the details, because to be honest, he really doesn’t quite trust Louis to give him all the information. But he can do that tomorrow. He doesn’t want to have to think about anything other than taking a shower and trying to sleep. And calling Thomas. Thomas will be able to give him advice. He always can.

He takes a long time in the shower, only because he stands under the spray of the hot water, letting it hit his back and relax him just the slightest. Today’s been nothing but a mess and stressful. He’s never been this stressed out, not even while working overtime during the Christmas season. It’s logical, though. Because Christmas season shouldn’t be nearly as stressful as your son being diagnosed with a terminal illness.

After drying off and changing into a pair of sweatpants, he collapses onto the bed, arm thrown over his eyes and he sighs loudly and reaches for his cell phone with his other hand. It’s been buzzing since he went into the bathroom, probably alerting him of a new text from Thomas. He doesn’t bother checking, and instead just goes straight to calling him, pressing the phone lightly to his ear. He doesn’t have much effort left today.

“Hey. So how’d it go?”

Harry tells Thomas everything – from getting to Louis’ earlier in the day to leaving just under an hour ago. The younger boy listens the entire time, occasionally giving his input. Not once does he bash Louis, or say what Louis did was awful, and that just proves that Thomas’s a bigger person than Louis is.

“If you need me to come down there, just tell me. I can be there in –”

“I think I’m okay for now,” Harry says softly, his arms tightening around one of his pillows. “I’m going to talk to Jude’s doctor tomorrow and get the details and figure out the money situation. And I’ll spend some time with Jude. Then from there… I don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out.” He sits up straight, smiling to himself as he remembers once little detail about the upcoming few days. “I’ll also have to find you a good birthday gift, considering your birthday is in two days.”

“That’s not exactly priority right now.”

“You’re always a part of my priority.” Harry replies but he's not sure if he really means it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this entire fic in less than 24 hours. I'll be updating it whenever I have time.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry’s morning consists of waking up, throwing on decent looking clothes, texting Thomas a quick ‘good morning’, calling a cab, and then waiting in the lobby of the hospital for two hours. He’s been here since six am, waiting for one of the nurses to tell him that Jude’s doctor is free for a meeting. It’s nearing eight o’clock and he knows Louis is going to be calling him soon to tell him Jude’s awake and wants to see him, but he can’t leave without seeing the doctor first.

He’s playing with his iPhone, flipping through pictures. So many of them are of Louis and Jude, probably a good seventy five percent of them. The other twenty five consists of random photos taken after Louis left – Thomas, for the most part, as well as family members and the cat that lives at his mom’s house. He’s not sure why he never really erased most of the pictures of Louis. Maybe it was because he’s not very fond of just erasing memories like that. Louis may have broken his heart, but he was still a huge part of his past.

“Harry Styles?”

Harry is quick to shove his phone into his jacket pocket, looking up at the doctor standing in front of him. He stands up as well, finding himself to be taller than the doctor and it’s a little bit awkward but whatever.

“That’s me. Um-”

“I only have a few quick minutes to meet with you so we can just talk right here, if that’s alright? Instead of going up to my office.”

“Oh. Yeah no, that’s okay.”

The doctor sits down in the seat opposite Harry’s and Harry follows, leaning his elbows on his knees and wondering what he should even say first.

“I’m going to just need to see your ID first,” he says, looking up at Harry through his glasses. Harry fumbles with his wallet, eventually managing to pull his driver’s license out from behind it’s plastic slot and hand it over. The doctor looks at it, nodding once he’s decided that yes, Harry is who he says he is, and then hands it back over. “So my name's Doctor Cole. I’ve been your son Jude’s doctor since he was diagnosed a little over six months ago now. Louis had you listed as his other parent, but he didn’t provide any phone numbers or an address so. If you could just fill all of that in for us, that would be great.”

He hands Harry a clipboard with a small stack of papers, his name listed at the very top. All of the fields, except for his name, relationship with Jude, and his birth date, are empty. “Yeah. I can do that. But can I ask you some questions first? About my son?”

Doctor Cole nods, removing his glasses and putting them into his front pocket. “Of course. I understand that you haven’t been aware of Jude’s medical status so. Should I just fill you in on everything we’ve done since the diagnosis?”

“That’d be great, yeah.”

“Okay. We diagnosed him in October of last year. Louis noticed he was tired often, and he was bruising really easily. He assumed it was just anemia, or something along those lines and that’s what I assumed too. But we did some tests and found that he had acute myeloid leukemia, often referred to as AML. The symptoms are often very closely compared with those of anemia.” He pauses and out of one of his folders, he pulls a piece of paper out and Harry can see Jude’s name at the top. “Basically, what happens is that AML interferes with the normal function of bone marrow. These cancerous cells invade and basically take over, and crowd out the healthy red blood cells which causes the blood cell count to go down – both red and white.”

Everything this man is saying is foreign to Harry. He’s never been one to know about illnesses and what cells do or anything like that. So all of this? Yeah, it’s going right over his head, pretty much. But instead of asking the doctor to dumb it down and use simpler words, he asks, “So what kind of treatment did he get?”

“Well, when we diagnosed Jude, it was very late in the illness. He came to us when the cancer was already at stage three. So we tried our best to work fast and get him treatment. First we did chemotherapy. It was twice a month for three months. There was barely any change in the count of cancer cells so we went with a different option. We found a donor, we performed the bone marrow transplant, and for a month, it seemed as though it had worked.”

Harry swallows. He knows that this is the part where the doctor tells him that it failed. That Jude’s treatments didn’t work and that there’s nothing more they can do for him.

“However, his body rejected it, meaning that his blood cells realized that it wasn’t his own and, in simple terms, attacked it. Louis and I discussed further treatment at length – we talked about doing chemo again and then putting Jude on the list for another donor. But I told Louis and I made it clear, that there was no way I could guarantee a positive outcome. In fact, the odds were not in Jude’s favor. They were against him. And after putting a lot of thought into it, Louis decided it’d be best if we stopped treatment, and Jude could just live the rest of the time he had without having to be in the hospital all the time.”

“He stopped treatment?” Harry asks, leaning forward, his voice higher in pitch than before. He stares at the man before him, completely shocked at what he just told him. “Louis stopped it? Why wouldn’t he keep going? Why wouldn’t he keep trying to –”

Doctor Cole reaches out, puts hand on Harry’s shoulder as he stands up, looking down at the younger man sympathetically. “Louis had to make a decision. Put Jude through more pain, not knowing if it’ll even be worth it – the likelihood being that it wouldn’t – or, let him live without the pain from the chemo or the surgeries. He wanted his son to be able to enjoy the time he had left. As a doctor, I can’t have an opinion. But as Louis’ friend, I think what he made the right decision.”

“A decision he made without me.”

“I’m sorry, Harry. I know-”

“How much longer does Jude have, then?”

The doctor sighs, “A month. Give or take a week or so.”

“A month?” Harry gapes at him, “You’re saying that my son only has a month left?”

“I know it sounds like barely any time at all, Harry. And I know it’s a difficult thing to accept. But the faster you do, the more time you have.”

\--------------------------------------------------------

“It’s hard to believe that one day he’s just not going to be here.”

Harry ignores Louis. He keeps his eyes focused on Jude who’s playing some sort of game of tag with one of his friends, watching him run around and laugh. But even though he’s not looking at his husband, Harry knows Louis is looking at him. He’s probably got his legs crossed underneath him and is probably staring at Harry with an intense expression. He was always big on eye contact.

“Harry, are you listening to me?”

Shaking his head, Harry continues to just ignore him. It’s been two days since he arrived in Doncaster. Two days of being able to learn everything about Jude that’s happened in the past two years. It also means two long days of dealing with Louis. He’s not the same as when he left. Sure he looks the same. But personality and behavior-wise? Definitely not. The Louis he married was carefree and happy and playful. This one is scared, tense and angry. He’s annoying, too, with the way he’s constantly getting on Harry’s case about every little thing he does. It’s stressing Harry out even more and he’s not sure how much longer he’s going to last. But then he remembers Jude, and how happy he is that Harry’s here. There’s no way he could possibly leave.

“I don’t appreciate being ignored. I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Well maybe I don’t really want to talk, Louis. Think of that?” Harry snaps, finally letting his eyes settle on the man next to him. He was right when he figured Louis would be staring at him, legs underneath him and looking as small as possible. He hadn’t noticed it when they first saw each other in the hospital that other day, but now he has. Louis is thinner than he was. Too thin. And Harry thinks he’s not eating.

“Well.” Louis crosses his arms, turns back to looking at the playground. “Fine then. Sorry for trying to be civil.”

“You’re only trying because Niall yelled at you this morning for being an ass,” Harry points out, this time letting his lips curl into a small smile. “I heard you guys.”

Louis doesn’t answer. Instead he lets out a huff of annoyance and stares at the ground below him. Stubborn, as always.

“Whatever. You’re right,” Harry sighs, “At least you’re trying.” He leans sideways and bumps his shoulder against Louis’s playfully, causing the older boy to fight back a smile. “I appreciate the effort.”

He looks down again, but this time he sees something that manages to make him feel like he’s been pushed backwards – something that everything Louis does seems to be able to do. Louis’ left ring finger still sports the silver band that represents their marriage. It’s still there, shiny and pretty and exactly the same as the day Harry put it there six years ago. It catches him off guard – why the hell is Louis still wearing it? He left Harry. He left him behind to pick up the pieces of what they had. Why would he still wear the ring that symbolized it all?

“Why are you still wearing that?” He finds himself asking, reaching out and taking Louis’ hand into his own. He grips it tightly as Louis tries to pull it away, not allowing him to do so. “You didn’t take it off?”

The absence of his own ring is suddenly so obvious to Harry, like a heavy weight put on his shoulders. He pictures the ring in the box in the back of the closet, hidden amongst pictures and letters.

Louis is blushing, still trying to pry his hand from Harry’s grip as he mumbles words that don’t quite make sense.

“I have no idea what you’re saying right now, Louis.”

The older man finally wins, pulling his hand back and shoving it into the pocket of his jacket, his eyes landing on Jude’s form and staying there. “It felt weird to take it off, okay?”

It’s not okay, actually. It’s so far from okay that it’s almost painful. Because it makes absolutely no sense to Harry. But he keeps quiet. It’s not worth the argument.

\--------------------------------------------------------

“Dad? Are you gonna live with us again?” Jude asks as they walk up the front path of Louis’ house. He has his hand in Harry’s, looking up at him with wide blue eyes and a hopeful smile.

“I…well, I don’t know-”

“He’s staying at a hotel, Jude. You know, like what we stayed at when we went to New York?” Louis interrupts, brushing past Harry while he fumbles with his house keys.

“When we saw The Lion King play?” Jude responds excitedly, bouncing on his toes, “Dad! We went to the city! The one that you said we were going to go to!”

Harry glares at Louis’ back as he walks up his front steps. “You went to New York City? And you saw a play?”

“Yeah! Dad, it was so awesome! The buildings were even taller than you!”

Even though he’s pissed off – because seriously, they had been planning a family trip to the city for months when they were still together – Harry smiles because Jude is clearly excited about it and Harry should be too. “That’s awesome! Did you like the play?”

Jude babbles on and on about the play and the city and Central Park and how cool the city looked at night and how Niall was with them. Harry wants to hate him, but he just can’t. He doesn’t like the fact that Niall’s been around while Harry hasn’t, but for some reason he can’t hate the guy. Probably because he’s nothing but nice to Harry. Liam, on the other hand, hasn’t exactly been very nice towards Harry the few times he’s been around so Harry actually does have a good reason to dislike that guy. And he’s glad he isn’t here right now.

“Hey! How was the park?” Niall asks from his seat on the living room couch the second they all walk through the front door. Harry is relieved to see that Liam is nowhere in sight.

“It was fun,” Harry hears Louis mumble as he kicks his sneakers off near the door, “I’m gonna go call for pizza or something-”

“I already did that,” Niall says, looking back at the TV screen as Jude climbs up onto the sofa next to him. “It’ll be here in like twenty minutes, I think.”

“Oh.” Louis pauses, looks at Jude, and then crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay. Jude, before the pizza comes, can you clean up your room? It’s a disaster right now.”

Jude pouts at his father, giving him the look that Harry knows well.

“I’m serious. Go upstairs and put all of your toys away and by the time you’re done, the pizza will be here and I’ll call you down. Okay?”

After much whining and complaining and some convincing from Harry and Niall, Jude agrees to clean up his room. Although he stomps up the steps and complains the whole way there, at least he’s going to do it.

“He’s very opinionated,” Niall observes once Louis has disappeared into the kitchen and Jude has slammed his bedroom door upstairs.

“Well. He’s got both mine and Louis’ genes. He couldn’t be perfect.”

Niall laughs and leans back against the couch cushions, crossing his legs. “Yeah. True. He speaks very highly of you, though. He talks about you like you’re a superhero, or something. Every time I’d pick him up after school when Louis couldn’t make it, he’d tell me a story about like, the time you saved a baby bird in your backyard. He…He really loves you, Harry. He never stopped. I hope you don’t think otherwise.”

“I…No,” Harry shakes his head, “I don’t. I know he does. I just feel bad about the fact that I wasn’t around for two years. I feel like a terrible father for that and-”

“But it wasn’t your fault,” Niall reminds him, tilting his head to the side.

By now, Harry’s grown used to his strange accent. He found out that Niall’s from Mullingar. How, exactly, he ended up in Doncaster is beyond Harry and he doesn’t think they’re close enough for him to ask for that information. But like he’s said before, Niall’s a nice guy. And here he is, proving it again.

“That’s true. But that doesn’t change the fact that I missed two years of his life, thanks to Louis.”

Niall sighs, running his hand through his hair and glancing towards the kitchen, probably to make sure Louis isn’t listening. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“I guess I should probably thank you,” Harry says with a slight smile, “Considering you sort of helped Louis raise him for the past two years.”

“No, no Harry,” Niall is quick to shake his head, blush a deep red color, “Don’t. I just live here. I was more of like, a babysitter, really. You raised him. I had nothing to do with-”

“Mate. It’s fine. You don’t need to get all worked up about it.”

“No really though, I don’t want you to think I tried to act as like another parent to Jude or anything like that because I didn’t and-”

“Calm down, Niall. I don’t.”

Niall looks at Harry, seeing that he’s serious when he says he doesn’t think that way. He nods, biting his lip. “Right. Okay then.”

Yeah, Harry decides. Niall’s a good guy.

\-------------------------------------------------------- 

It’s back in his hotel room that Harry starts to re-think everything. It all stems from the moment in the park, when he saw Louis’ ring still on his finger. That shouldn’t be there. Logically, Harry has decided, it should be tossed away somewhere, just like his is. Louis was the one who quit. He was the one who gave up. That ring symbolizes everything he gave up on. Why the hell is he wearing it?

Harry came to Donny positive that there was nothing left between him and Louis. That Louis was done and they just needed to really talk about divorce papers and custody issues. But now that he’s seen that ring, he’s second guessing everything. What if Louis still has feelings for him? What if he doesn’t want to give up anymore?

Harry’s not even sure what to really make of that possibility. What would he even do if Louis came to him and wanted to get back together? He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He has Thomas now. Thomas, who has helped him get over the mess Louis left him with. Thomas who’s the sweetest, kindest person he’s ever met. Thomas who’s waiting for him back home.

Groaning and rolling over onto his side, Harry’s eyes meet the alarm clock. It’s glaring the time at him, practically, in bright red numbers – 11:32pm. And right in the corner is the date. And that date reads 4/21. Thomas’ birthday.

He forgot Thomas’ birthday.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason this chapter was deleted! This is the real chapter 7. Sorry for the confusion

Thomas calls the next morning at seven. It doesn’t surprise Harry at all, but it doesn’t mean he’s any more prepared for it. He rolls over so he’s on his back, staring up at the hotel ceiling and sighs deeply before answering and pressing the phone close to his ear.

“Hey,” he says softly, running a hand through his hair just so he’s doing something, “Sleep alright?”

“Yeah. I guess. It’s weird without you there, though,” Thomas responds just as softly. Harry can tell he’s biting his tongue, waiting to say what he really wants to. “How’s everything going with Jude?”

Leave it to Thomas to put everyone else before himself.

“Well. He’s okay. I um. Spoke to his doctor and he filled me in on everything. Apparently, Jude’s only got about a month left-”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, a sure signal that Thomas is horrified at this information and that makes Harry feel ten times worse. “Harry, I’m so sorry. I-”

“It’s…Yeah. It’s…It’s bad. But-”

“There’s nothing else they can do? They must be able to do something, I mean…”

“No. He said there isn’t. Not enough time,” Harry mumbles, rubbing at his wrist. He doesn’t want to talk about Jude and his illness. He still hasn’t’ even accepted it. Not completely, at least. “But listen…I um. Yesterday was your birthday and I didn’t call and-”

“Oh, yeah. Listen, Harry. Don’t even worry about it. I wasn’t upset or anything if-”

“Thomas,” Harry interrupts, “I forgot your birthday. That’s…that’s not okay. I don’t-”

“Really, I’m not upset. I’m not, I swear. You’ve got so many things going on down there. I don’t blame you at all.”

Again, Harry is amazed by Thomas’ selflessness. Although it really doesn’t make him feel all that better about his fuck-up, it allows him to relax slightly and smile. Suddenly he really, really missed his boyfriend. Not that he didn’t before. But now it’s just so much more obvious. “I’m going to make it up to you. I promise, okay?”

“Okay. Don’t worry about it for now though.”

“What’d you end up doing yesterday?”

Thomas tells him about his cousin taking him out for lunch and one of his friends from school baking him cupcakes and bringing them to class. His parents had him over for dinner and he got to hang out with his younger brother for a bit. He assures Harry it was great and he had fun and everything was fine but Harry still feels badly about the fact that he wasn’t around at all.

“Well…I’m glad you at least had a good day. I really miss you. I wish you were here right now. “

He listens to Thomas laugh, closes his eyes so he can pretend he’s not really in this hotel room. For a split second, he manages to forget all of the things that have gone wrong for him over the past few days and his life seems normal. Until he opens his eyes again.

\--------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, you know, I’ve still got those free tickets for the Harry Potter set. They’re going to expire in a few months. Why don’t we try and use them sometime this week?”

Harry looks up from the notebook he’s reading, glancing up at Niall. The other man is sitting across from him on the other couch, flipping through the TV channels to find something decent to watch. He’s still talking, going on about how he got the tickets through work (he works with a record label – he’s an assistant) and talking about how much fun it would be if they could go. Jude, who’s now looking up from his ipad in favor of agreeing with Niall about how much fun it would be, is wearing the biggest smile Harry has seen from him in the four days he’s been here.  
Jude has always loved Harry Potter. It's something their little family has always bonded over. 

“How many tickets do you have?”

The question comes from Liam, who’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch from Harry. He’s got his arms folded across his chest, has an unreadable expression on his face, and Harry rolls his eyes. Unpleasant, as usual.

“I’ve got five or six, I think. They’d only get us one day and I mean, we’d probably go for two days to make the trip worth it cause it’s a few hours away but-”

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Harry interrupts, closing the notebook. He’s gotten a headache from reading it – trying to decipher the doctor’s and Louis’ handwriting. It’s supposed to be a log of all the treatments Jude went through but Harry just thinks Louis wrote down random letters and numbers and didn’t put much effort into it at all. “We should plan to go this weekend.”

“I don’t know…” Liam trails off. His eyes go from Harry to Jude, and he shrugs his shoulders. “It might be a lot.”

Harry knows what he’s getting at, and it kind of pisses him off. Who is Liam to tell him what’s good or bad for his son? “I think it’ll be fine. It’ll be fun and give us something to do outside of the house.”

“That’s what I was thinking!” Niall exclaims, “Hey Louis! Can you come in here?”

There’s the sudden, unmistakable sound of Louis dropping metal pans onto the kitchen floor, followed closely by his input of irritation. His voice travels into the living room and Jude giggles, and then goes back to his game, seemingly used to Louis’ colorful vocabulary.

“What, Niall?” Louis grunts when he’s standing in the kitchen doorway. He’s frowning and obviously not happy about the way dinner is turning out for him. “You’re distracting me.”

“We were just talking. Harry and I think it would be a good idea to go to The Harry Potter set this weekend. Something fun to do and something to get us out of the house?”

At first, Louis hesitates to answer. He bites his lip, looks from Liam (who’s frowning) to Harry (who’s smiling) and then to Jude (who’s bouncing on his knees and wearing a gleeful expression). Harry knows him well, still. He can see Louis’s protests dying in his throat just by observing Jude’s excitement. He’s proved right not ten seconds later, when his shoulders slump and he leans against the door frame. “Okay. It’s probably a good idea. We haven’t really gone anywhere fun lately.”

“Awesome! It was Harry’s idea,” Niall says and he grins at Harry, “He came up with it.”

Harry wants to hug him. Because seriously, this guy is making it so much easier for him to get back onto Louis’s good side. Liam rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t squeal on Harry and tell Louis the truth. Harry wants to know why he dislikes Harry so much and why he’s always in such an awful mood. But he bites his tongue, watches Niall get up from the couch, talking about going to go find those free tickets. Liam ends up following him, claiming Niall will need more than a little help, leaving Harry with Louis.

“So…This weekend will be fun,” Louis says quietly, smiling just a little bit, “I haven’t been to London in a while…”

“We haven’t been there as a family since....”

“Well. It’ll be good,” Louis says, as if to reassure himself. “I…I’m glad everything’s going so well with us, Harry. I mean, I was worried that you wouldn’t want to be around me too much after…after everything I did. But we’ve been getting along and…It kind of reminds me of when we were a family…you know?”

Harry wants to tell him that he knows – that he’s been feeling the same way. Because he honestly has. He’s noticed it too. It’s nice, feeling like a family after two years of being separated. But he doesn’t get the chance to agree, because his cell phone rings and when he checks the caller ID, he sees that it’s Thomas.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells Louis, smiling widely to assure him that he agrees with his statement about feeling like a family, and locks himself in the bathroom to take the phone call.

“Hey! Guess what!”

Thomas is excited, that much is obvious, and it sparks Harry’s curiosity. What could he possibly be so excited about? So he asks, not bothering to hide his interest and although he really should be excited about the answer Thomas gives, he feels this sudden pain in his chest, as if his body is warning him about something.

“We did a lot of review in class today so I can afford a weekend off,” Thomas continues, explaining to Harry about his free weekend and the opportunity to come visit Harry. “I mean, if you want me there. I just… I mean, you said you missed me and wanted me there this morning so I assumed…”

Noticing the path of guilt that Thomas is suddenly walking down, Harry interrupts, “No! No, don’t think I don’t want you here. I do! I definitely do,” he assures him, “That would be awesome if you could. I…It would be fun.”

He really should be telling Thomas no – that him visiting would probably not be such a great idea. Especially since he’s just starting to get Louis out of his shell and getting back on his good side. But he doesn’t have the heart to do that. Thomas is his boyfriend. His boyfriend who’s birthday he forgot. Saying no isn’t really an option. So, instead he agrees, tells Thomas to get the first flight down here on Friday and he’ll be there to pick him up.

“Okay. I’m excited! I’ve never been to Doncaster. What’s the weather like right now? I don’t really know what to pack…”

After going through the necessary clothing items that Thomas should bring and trying to give him fair warning about what to expect when he gets down here, Harry hangs up, leans his head against the bathroom mirror and sighs loudly. His breath fogs up the glass and he really just wants to punch something because he just signed up for a weekend from hell.

Louis reassures him of that assumption. When he walks into the kitchen to tell Louis about Thomas’ visit, he finds the older boy cutting up vegetables, a huge smile on his face. Harry coughs loudly, getting his attention.

“Oh, hey! You know, I was just thinking about this weekend. I really think it’ll be good for us. You know? Cause it’s been awhile since we did anything as a family and even with Liam and Niall there it’ll still be-”

“Louis, Thomas is coming to visit for the weekend.”

Louis stops, eyes widening at the new information he’s received. Harry watches his expression change from happy to livid and he glares at Harry before turning around and going back to cutting up vegetables. His back is tense and his shoulders are hunched, showing just how angry Harry has made him. And if his shoulders shake a bit and his breathing gets a little uneven, well...There's really nothing Harry can do about that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boyfriend meets the ex....
> 
>  
> 
> After reading this update comment below if you're team Thomas or team Louis and why!

Harry’s not nervous. He’s just…a little anxious. Because Thomas’ flight lands any minute now and he’ll be walking through those gates and he’ll be excited to see Harry. But Harry knows what he’s bringing Thomas home to. It’s not exactly something to be excited about.

When Harry told Louis that Thomas would be coming to spend a few days here, the older man was, of course, livid. He didn’t come out and say that, though. He just transformed from this happy, carefree person to an angry, moody individual who ignored Harry every time he tried to talk to him. Luckily, Jude didn’t notice anything. If anything, he thought Louis and Harry were still getting along as well as they were in the living room before they sat down for dinner. Niall definitely noticed, but he didn’t say anything. And Liam probably noticed too. But he left before dinner because he had a ‘date’ with some man named Zayn. He seemed to lighten up a bit after he said his name and Harry thinks that maybe he’s the only one capable of making him slightly pleasant to be around.

When Harry stopped by the house before coming to the airport, Louis was still in a terrible mood. He glared at Harry, snapped at him and told him no when he asked if he could take Jude with him to get Thomas. Harry didn’t take it too personally. To be honest, he kind of figured Louis would say no. And okay, he doesn’t blame him for saying ‘no’ too much, because the situation is a bit weird. But he could have been a bit nicer about it. Especially towards Jude, because the eight year old was kind of excited about it. But Louis snapped at him, too.

So, needless to say, Harry doesn’t really want to introduce Thomas to Louis. He has to, he knows that much, but. Yeah. It’s extremely unappealing. Louis will be a little bitch and Thomas will still be the sweetest, nicest person in the world and take Louis’s insults as if he deserves them. On second thought, Harry knows Thomas well enough by now to know that he actually will think he deserves them. And if Louis makes Thomas feel bad about himself, Harry’s not sure exactly how he’s going to handle that situation. Because he can’t just let Louis do that. Thomas is his boyfriend. He deserves respect.

Harry doesn’t have time to think about that anymore, though, because now there’s a flood of people walking through the gates, all coming off the plane from London. Most of them are businessmen, with briefcases and glasses and they’re probably here for meetings with their bosses and hoping to go home with a raise, or a promotion. There are a few older people, probably coming back from a visit with their children and grandchildren. And then, there’s Thomas.

The twenty-three year old looks lost and a little bit confused walking through the airport. His eyes are scanning the crowd, looking for Harry, but Harry just stays where he’s leaning against one of the many chairs. He can’t fight the grin taking over his face even if he wanted to. It’s been days since he’s seen his boyfriend and that’s the longest they’ve gone since they started dating.

He waits for Thomas to notice him, admiring him from a distance. He feels kind of creepy, if he’s honest, but he doesn’t let it bother him too much because seriously. Thomas is his boyfriend. This is okay. And when the younger boy finally does see him, his eyes light up and he practically runs to Harry, throwing his arms around his neck.

Harry lifts him easily, holding him tight and not even caring that they’re kind of making a scene in the middle of the airport. People do it all the time. Granted, it’s usually two people of the opposite sex who are doing it, but Harry doesn’t particularly care. He puts Thomas down so that he’s on his feet again (because to be honest, he’s heavier than Harry realized and Harry’s not exactly the strongest person in the world) but he still keeps Thomas’ body close.

“I missed you,” Thomas mumbles into Harry’s chest and Harry can feel him smiling. “I’m glad you wanted me to come.”

Harry ignores the pang of guilt, pushes it aside, as he squeezes Thomas tightly before pushing him away so he can see him better. “Of course I wanted you to,” he says softly, letting his hand come up to cup Thomas’ face. “I missed you too much.” And then he notices, Thomas’s hair is significantly shorter than when he left. “I see you got a haircut.”

Thomas smiles, runs his fingers through his short hair, “Yeah…I figured I might as well.”

“You look good.” He kisses him softly, barely letting Thomas register the feeling of his lips on his before pulling away. He figures they’ll have time alone together to do more than that once they get to the hotel room later. “Let’s go get your stuff so we can bring it to the car.”

“You have a car?” Thomas asks, slipping his arm around Harry’s waist as they walk towards baggage claim. “Did you rent it?”

Harry shakes his head, “No, Louis’ housemate Niall let me borrow his. I originally had asked Louis to use his but…Well. He claimed he was using it so Niall offered his.”

“Oh, okay.”

He can sense the nervousness in Thomas’ voice now, just from those two little words. And Harry doesn’t blame him. “Yeah, Niall’s awesome. You two will get along. And Louis’ other friend Liam… Well... I don’t really know him very well yet. But I’m sure you’ll get along with him too. Oh, and Jude! I already told him about you. He’s excited to meet you.”

Harry smiles, remembering all the questions that Jude was asking about Thomas. How old he is, where he’s from, where he lives. Jude didn’t seem fazed by the fact that he lives with Harry, but Harry didn’t go into explaining exactly who Thomas is to him. Right now he just thinks Thomas is a very good friend. Over the next few days, Harry will see if he can maybe try and explain it more to Jude. But for now, it’ll have to stay simple.

“I’m excited to meet him too,” Thomas says softly, slipping his hand into Harry’s left pocket. “And um…Louis?”

“Louis…well, we’ll just have to see what happens as we go along, I guess.”

“I hope he likes me.”

“He’d have to be crazy not to.”

\--------------------------------------------------------

Harry prolongs Louis and Thomas meeting as long as he can. He brings Thomas straight to the hotel from the airport and by that time it’s already four in the afternoon, so Harry suggested that they take a nap before they go over and see Jude and Louis and Niall. Thomas agreed to it easily, considering he was tired from his flight and he also wanted to take a shower before going over. It was easier than Harry thought it would be.

They end up sleeping until nearly seven. Mainly because Harry turned off Thomas’ alarm on his phone but also partly because Thomas was exhausted and Harry just wanted to hold him close for awhile. But by the time they woke up and realized how long they slept for, they decided to just order room service and stay in. Besides, they had a long day tomorrow, what with going to London and all of that. They have to be at Louis’ by six, drive the three hours, get there by nine and spend the day there. Louis voted against staying the night at a hotel and going home the next afternoon and Harry’s sure that’s because he didn’t want to have to share a room with Harry. But fine. Whatever. Saves Harry money in the long run.

But now, the meeting between Thomas and Louis is inevitable, because they’re standing on Louis’ front porch and the sun is barely up and Thomas is tugging on his t-shirt, fidgeting beside Harry.

“Stop moving so much,” Harry mumbles, reaching out and putting both hands on Thomas’ shoulders from behind him. “There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

Thomas turns around in his arms, pouting as he asks, “Are you sure I look okay? I-”

“Thomas. You look fine. You look hot. Really fucking hot. Okay?”

“Well that’s adorable,” Comes Louis’ sarcasm-laced words from the now open doorway and Harry feels Thomas freeze up under his touch. “Classy.”

“Louis,” Harry says, his eyes giving off the un-voiced warning. “Louis I want you to meet Thomas.” He forcefully turns Thomas around, keeping his hands tight on his shoulders so that the younger boy knows he’s still there. “Thomas this is Louis.”

Louis’ eyes are narrowed and his lips set in a frown as he looks Thomas up and down. Thomas steps out of Harry’s grip and reaches out, offering his hand to Louis as he says, “H-hi,” and Harry wants to pinch him for being so nervous. “It’s nice finally meeting you. Harry’s told me a lot about you-”

“Oh,” Louis interrupts, eyes moving up to look at Harry, completely disregarding Thomas’ outstretched hand. “I’m sure my dear husband has.”

It’s then that Harry realizes how un-cooperative Louis is going to be. It’s going to be a really, really long weekend.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Louis’ rude and unwelcoming behavior throws Thomas right back into that little shell that Harry tried so hard to get him out of before they left the hotel. They’re in Niall’s car, on their way to London and Thomas is all but glued to Harry’s side. Niall is driving, arguing with Liam about something in the front seat. Louis and Jude are in the middle seats, leaving Harry and Thomas in the back. Jude is turned around, struggling against his seat belt, talking to Harry about all the souvenirs he wants to buy. Harry is surprised he’s so awake at six thirty in the morning.

“Daddy doesn’t like spending money on things we don't need,” the eight year old explains, his head in his hands as he leans his elbows on the seat. “Li buys me whatever I want though.”

Harry smiles, remembering exactly how practical Louis is. When they were together, Harry gave him the title of ‘designated backpack and wallet holder’. Louis didn’t really appreciate that too much.

“Well I’ll buy you whatever you want to. I know how much you love Harry Potter,” Harry says, leaning forward and ruffling his son’s hair. “And Thomas does too.”

Jude looks over at Thomas, who’s smiling nervously, and asks, “Do you like quidditch?”

Thomas shakes his head, “I don’t know if I'd like it very much in real life. Heights scare me. Do you like it?”

“Yes! I'd be a seeker cos I'm super fast!” Jude is wide eyed and excited, leaning even further over the seat. Harry catches Louis grab onto the back of his shirt, pulling him backwards slightly. “Daddy says I've got dad’s long arms so I'd reach the snitch before anyone else!”

Thomas loosens up a bit, un-sticking himself from Harry’s side as he talks to Jude about all the quidditch positions. That makes Harry smile, makes him realize that it will naturally be so much easier for Jude to accept Thomas than it will be for Louis.

It seems that Louis realizes this at the same time, though. He reaches over and tugs on Jude’s shirt, saying, “Sit down and face forward. It’s not safe to sit in a car like that. You know better.”

Jude pouts but he listens to his father all the same, rolling his eyes as he turns around and sits the correct way. Harry, although pissed off at how immature Louis is being, turns to Thomas with a smile, trying to get him to cheer up a bit. And Thomas smiles back at him, his eyes a bit brighter than they have been all day. Maybe today won’t be so bad.

\--------------------------------------------------------

As hard as Louis tries to keep Jude from hanging around Thomas too much, he really kind of fails at it and Harry is happy to acknowledge it. He understands, to a certain extent, how Louis must be feeling. When he himself first walked into Louis’ house and realized that Niall had been living with his family, he didn’t want to think about the fact that Jude might like Niall more than him. But Louis is taking it too far. It’s not as if Harry is bringing Thomas in and trying to replace Louis with him. All he wants is for Thomas and Jude to have a decent relationship. Yet Louis can’t seem to accept that.

They’re standing in line to see the great hall and Jude is hanging off of Thomas’ arm, jabbering about scbees from the movie. Thomas is listening, responding at the appropriate times and Harry can feel how tense Louis is from where the older man is standing right beside him.  
“You need to calm down,” He says softly, turning his back on his son and his boyfriend. “And I’d really appreciate it if you would stop sending Thomas death glares. You’re making him more uncomfortable than he needs to be around you.”

Louis scoffs, “I’m not glaring at him.”

“Yeah, okay. I don’t know exactly what’s going through your head, Louis. And it sucks, because I used to know you like the back of my hand.” Harry holds his hand up just to stress his point, and it turns out to be a bad idea. Louis’s eyes focus on his ring finger, taking in the absence of his ring. Harry can’t read his expression, but he doesn’t like it. “Just…Just get over the fact that I’m dating someone new. You left me Louis. Don’t forget that, because I never did.”

Louis breathes in deep, looks briefly at Thomas and Jude before turning back to Harry and saying, “I’m sorry if I’m just slightly overprotective of my son when he’s with someone I don’t even know.”

Harry opens his mouth to respond, but he’s interrupted by Niall and Liam who both push their way in between Louis and Harry.

“Let’s not do this in the middle of Hogwarts, maybe?” Niall suggests, looking at Harry with pleading eyes and biting his lower lip. “You can talk all you want when you get home tonight. Just stop fighting because eventually Jude’s going to catch on and he’s going to get upset. Today’s supposed to be fun. Can we keep it that way?”

Liam nods in agreement, his hands on Louis’ shoulders, “When we get home, you can fight all you want. I can take Jude somewhere else and you can fucking beat each other up for all I care. Just don’t do this here.”

“Louis started it,” Harry mumbles. He’s not sure, but he thinks that maybe Liam just kind of gave him a sympathetic look. Why Liam would do that, Harry doesn’t know. But he’s pretty sure he didn’t imagine it.

By the time they’re at the very front of the line, both Niall and Liam are separating Louis and Harry and Jude is still clinging onto Thomas’ arm. He looks back at his two parents and points at Thomas as he says, “I want to sit next to Thomas!”

Harry smiles, observing how comfortable Thomas is around Jude now. Without Louis glaring at him and acting as though Thomas can’t even go within five feet of him, he’s relaxed and having a good time. He looks up, meeting Harry’s eyes and he smiles brighter than Harry can remember him smiling and Harry feels his heart swell with affection for the younger boy.

\--------------------------------------------------------

They’re leaving the park when Harry notices it. It’s nearing six o’clock and they’re walking at a leisurely pace towards the parking lots, Harry’s hand tightly laced with Thomas’. Since he got toDoncaster, and found out about Jude’s illness and how little time he had left, Harry hadn’t noticed anything significantly different about him. Yes, he was thin for his age, but that could have easily been passed off as just a fast metabolism that would eventually catch up with him. But now, on his left arm, there’s a large bruise, black and blue in color. Harry remembers earlier, when they were eating lunch and Jude accidently bumped his arm into one of the chairs. There was barely any force behind it, and it shouldn’t have caused a bruise to form on any normal eight year old.

But Jude’s not a normal eight year old and that bruise is just a symbol of what’s happened to him in the past six months. He bruises at the slightest of contact now. The doctor told Harry that would happen, but it didn’t really register until now, when he’s seeing it right in front of him. It’s gone through his head a million times, but he can’t help but think once more – what would have happened if Louis had just contacted him when Jude was diagnosed all those months ago? Would it be any different?

Probably not, he has to admit to himself. According to Jude’s doctor, they did everything they could. The cancer was just too far along to really be stopped. But, Harry reminds himself, if Louis had told him, Harry would have had more time to spend with his son. That right there is the big difference.

“Hey, Jude,” he says softly, reaching his hand out to the eight year old walking beside him.

Jude looks up, eyes tired but a smile still spread across his face.

“You too tired to walk to the car?” Harry questions, reaching out with his free hand and ruffling his son’s hair. “I can carry you if you are.”

“Okay,” he drags the word out and stops walking, reaching his arms up towards Harry.

Harry pulls his hand from Thomas’, reaches down and easily lifts his son up into his arms. He’s not heavy, but he’s tall for an eight year old, so that makes it a little bit more difficult. But Harry manages, and even if he thought he couldn’t, he’d force himself too. Because he doesn’t want to miss out on an opportunity to hold his son. Especially with so little time left.

Jude falls asleep briefly on the ride home, which takes nearly four hours. There are detours and traffic and other things that just drag the ride out and although Niall doesn’t really show it too much, Harry knows he’s getting frustrated and really just wants to get home so he can sleep. Once they pull into the driveway, he gets out of the car first, stretches his muscles and then goes to open up the front door.

Liam says goodbye, actually gives Harry a small smile before he walks to his car. He was weird all day. It’s as if he, for some reason, has suddenly just accepted Harry and is going to be nicer to him. But Harry’s not going to get his hopes up yet. Liam could change his mind.

And as far as Louis goes, he’s in an even worse mood than he was at the park. Although he doesn’t outright object, it’s clear that he doesn’t want Thomas stepping foot in his house. But, he keeps quiet, heads straight for the kitchen and leaves Harry, Thomas, Jude and Niall in the living room. Through the closed door, Harry can hear him rummaging through a cabinet, bottles clinking and he knows that he’s looking for some form of alcohol.

Louis doesn’t come back out. Harry watches a movie with Jude, Thomas sitting right beside him on the couch and Niall half-asleep in the recliner. He’s a bit surprised that Jude hasn’t passed out yet. It was a long day and he tends to tire a lot more easily than he used to. But he seems to be fading fast now, sitting in-between Thomas and Harry and drinking sugar-free lemonade out of a water bottle. His head is leaning against the back of the couch and his eyes aren’t really focusing on the TV anymore. It’s only a matter of time before he passes out.

The most concerning thing, though, is the fact that Louis really hasn’t made much noise since he went into the kitchen a little over an hour ago. Nobody has checked on him and Niall hasn’t even suggested looking in on him. But for some reason, Harry just wants to make sure he’s alright. He’s seen Louis at his lowest points when they were together; he’s seen what he can do with alcohol in his system. It was never anything good.

“Hey,” Harry whispers, leaning over Jude so that he’s closer to Thomas, resting his hand on his arm, “I’m going to go make sure Louis didn’t drown himself in the sink somehow. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay…”

Thomas sounds nervous to be left on his own but Harry isn’t concerned. The only person he would have a reason to be concerned about is the one that Harry is going to check on so he’s fine. He can handle himself for a few minutes.

He pushes the swinging door open, walking into the average-sized kitchen and finding Louis sitting at the kitchen table. In front of him is a bottle of vodka. More than half the bottle is empty and Harry wishes he knew how much it was filled this morning. Louis is tracing his finger along the rim of one of the many clear glasses that line the shelves of the cabinets. He’s crying.

“Louis? You okay?” Harry asks softly, not moving.

Louis sighs loudly, doesn’t look up from his glass as he gives a simple, “Yep.”

“I…You sure?”

Harry takes a tentative step towards the table and Louis snaps his head up, his eyes settling on Harry. They’re filled with tears and so much pain that Harry can practically feel it.

“I’m great, Harry,” he says, his lips curling into a small smile. His voice is rough and he sounds broken, looks completely shattered. “Really great. My husband’s in my living room watching a movie with our son and his new boyfriend. Everything’s really great.”

“Don’t do this,” Harry warns, walking even closer and managing to grab the vodka from the table. “You’re drunk and you’ll regret everything you say if you-”

Louis shakes his head quickly, his eyes following the vodka bottle as he interrupts loudly, “I don’t like Thomas. I don’t want him in my house.”

“Too bad, because he’s here for the weekend and he’s going to go wherever I go. Get used to it, Louis. You shouldn’t be so upset over it.”

Harry moves to the sink, tipping the bottle over and watching the liquid pour out. It swirls down the drain slowly and Harry makes sure he pours out every last drop. He knows he can’t pour out all of Louis’ alcohol, but he can at least start with this one. Chances are, the older man probably won’t even remember anything in the morning.

But Louis’ next sentence makes Harry wish he was the one who will be too drunk to remember.

“He’s taking my place,” Louis whimpers. He pushes his chair out and stumbles out of his seat, “You’re replacing me-”

Harry puts the bottle down, the glass hitting the counter loudly and he’s surprised it didn’t crack or shatter. He turns, finding Louis standing there, wringing his fingers together and his cheeks wet with tears. Harry feels bad. More than bad. But he can’t let Louis take advantage of him like this.

“Louis, you’re so obviously in denial about this whole thing! You are the one who left me. You’re the one who moved and took my son and didn’t call me or write me or anything. You broke my heart and left me with this empty space in my life and I was lucky enough to find someone to help me get over it. If you have to have someone to blame for this, then blame yourself. Don’t hate Thomas; don’t blame him for anything because he’s the only truly innocent one in this fucking mess!”

“I was scared, Harry, I didn’t think-”

“Scared?! Of what? What could you have possibly been scared of?” Louis opens his mouth to explain further but Harry cuts him off, waving his hands and taking a few more steps towards the door. “No. No, Louis. I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to talk to you while you’re wasted.” Harry sighs when he realizes that Louis is still crying. He doesn’t want him to cry. But he doesn’t want to be the one to comfort him, either. “I’m going back to my hotel and I’ll be back tomorrow-”

“No! Harry, I’m sorry-”

“You’re not sorry. You can say it all you want but I won’t believe you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What we've all been waiting for....

The day after Louis’ drunken confession and Harry’s refusing to listen to him talk, is awkward and uncomfortable. It’s not that Harry feels bad about not letting Louis finish talking, not letting him explain himself. It’s just…Okay he feels guilty because even though his brain is telling him it was the right decision, his heart is hurting, telling him he should have stayed and listened. And he hates that he might have made Louis hurt even more than he was.

It doesn’t make much sense, Harry acknowledges, because Louis hurt him so badly so many times over the past two years. So Harry really shouldn’t be feeling bad about this one little instance. But he does and he hates himself for it. He hates that he will always put Louis first somehow, no matter what. He doesn’t want him hurting. He doesn’t want him to be upset. Even though he might deserve it.

Right now, they’re sitting in the hospital waiting room, have been for the past hour. Jude’s doctor suggested weekly checkups, just to make sure he’s doing alright for the condition he’s in. Basically, he’s just making sure Jude’s not in too much pain and can go through his day without being affected too much by his illness. He’s been in with the doctor for about forty five minutes and now they’re just waiting for someone to come talk to them. Harry hates hospitals. He doesn’t want to be here.

“There’s a really good diner down the block, actually,” Niall is saying from his seat across from Harry, “They seriously have the best fucking pancakes I’ve ever had. You have to try them.”

“Really? Maybe we can go there if everything goes alright…” Thomas responds and Harry’s hand forms a fist.

He remains as calm as possible, though. Because really. Even though ever since Niall opened the door for them that morning he’s been highly suspicious of Niall’s motives towards Thomas, Harry shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions. So what if Niall is sitting way too close to Thomas to be normal? So what if he keeps touching his shoulder? It’s fine. It’s normal. He’s just being friendly.

“You know, there’s this really great ice cream place by our house, too. We need to go there later. You can’t come to Donny without going to it.”

Thomas blushes and nods, agreeing to go later that night and it makes Harry’s blood boil. Is he invisible? Has Thomas completely forgotten that Harry is here? That Harry is his boyfriend? But before he can say anything, before he can speak up, Louis is punching him in the arm, mumbling that the doctor wants to talk to them in his office.

“Come on,” Louis grunts, avoiding all eye contact, just as he’s been doing all day. “Get up.”

They follow Doctor Cole down three different hallways all on the same floor, Louis right behind him and Harry trailing just a bit farther behind. His brain’s a mess of thoughts right now, ranging from Jude to Louis to Thomas and then back to Jude again. If he could turn them all off, he would in a heartbeat.

“Okay so Jude’s just getting his blood taken by one of the nurses right now,” the doctor explains as he sits behind his desk, dropping his folders onto it, “So I figured it’d be a good time to discuss everything.”

“Is he okay?” Louis asks quickly, leaning forward in his seat beside Harry, “Did you find something to help him?”

Doctor Cole sighs and it’s the type of sigh that someone usually gives when they don’t want to tell you the answer to what you’re asking. So any hope that Harry had when he walked in here today is immediately gone, and the way that Louis slumps in his seat tells him his is gone too.

“We gave him a routine checkup – height, weight, blood pressure. All of that. He doesn’t seem to be in any pain right now, but I did see some bruises on his arms which, as you know, is just something that’s going to happen more and more often. We did an eye exam as well and his vision has weakened but not by a substantial amount so we don’t need to worry about that yet. There’s nothing more we can do for him, Louis, and you know that.”

Harry looks at Louis, taking in his defeated expression. “I…Yeah, I know,” the older man responds, blinking quickly to try and make the tears go away before they can fall. “I know. I was just…hoping.”

“I understand. All we can really do is make sure he’s not suffering. Which right now, he isn’t. But we’ll want to make weekly appointments to make sure it stays that way for as long as possible.”

Louis nods, swallowing hard and letting his fingers dig into the fabric of his jeans. He’s struggling for words, and Harry decides to cut him a break and find the words for him.

“What’s going to happen to him, exactly,” Harry interrupts, asking the question he knows Louis can’t bring himself to ask.

“Well, the disease is going to make him weaker. He’ll tire much more easily and eventually it’ll get more and more difficult for him to walk. His immune system, which is already sub-par, will weaken even more and he won’t be able to fight off any sort of sickness he catches. And as difficult as it is to accept, it’ll probably be something as common as a cold.”

“But what if-”

“Keeping away from germs or other people who are sick will not help him, Mr. Styles,” the doctor says sadly, already knowing what Harry wanted to ask. “This illness can’t be cured at this stage. It can’t be stalled. I told you both before – right now, your jobs are to make him as comfortable as possible.”

That’s it, Harry realizes, sitting in that tiny office. He’s losing his son. He can’t save him, he can’t prevent him from dying. His eight year old is never going to turn nine. He’s never going to go to high school, or college. He won’t get married and he won’t have kids of his own. He’s only going to see eight years of life and that isn’t fair. How could it be, when there are millions of other kids in the world who are going on with their lives, healthy and not caring about how many days they have left?

There are people who have it worse, Harry’s rational side reminds him; there are people who lose newborns. And toddlers. And never get to have any time with them. And he can’t ignore that. He can’t deny it. He’s lucky as much as he doesn’t want to admit it. Jude’s had eight years. And even though Harry hasn’t really spent all of those eight years with him, he’s still lucky to have had any time at all.

“Thank you,” Harry says suddenly, standing up and reaching for the doctor’s hand. “I appreciate everything you’re helping us with, really.”

“It’s my job, Harry. But it’s no problem. I’m going to help you guys through this. It’ll be hard but I’ve seen it been done.”

Harry smiles, looks over at Louis and realizes the older boy isn’t moving. He’s frozen in his seat, staring at his hands and his shoulders are shaking. “Louis. Come on.” Harry grabs onto his arm and pulls him up out of the chair, but he gets no other reaction than a slight sniffle. “Let’s go.”

“Schedule another appointment for a week from now with the front desk,” Doctor Cole calls out as Harry pulls Louis from the room.

“Breathe,” Harry instructs, pushing Louis’ body up against one of the walls in the empty hallway. “Take a deep breath.”

Louis looks at him with wide eyes, doing as he instructs. He lets the breath out, his shoulders slumping forward. “I can’t lose him too,” he whispers, barely audible even in the quiet hallway.

Harry grabs him, pulls him into his body and hugs him tight; telling him it’ll be okay over and over and over. And Harry’s not sure what made him do it, exactly. It might have been because of the little confession Louis made the night before. It might have been the guilt he’s feeling. And it might have been the confusion Harry is feeling towards Thomas and Niall right now. But the most prominent possibility is the fact that they’re both hurting, they’re both about to lose somebody. That somebody providing the only connection they seem to have left. And suddenly it’s so obvious that they’re not ready to let it go.

\--------------------------------------------------------

“No vanilla is better.”

“Chocolate.”

“Vanilla.”

“You’re ridiculous. Chocolate.”

Harry glares at the open menu on the table in front of him. If he has to sit through this playful banter much longer, he’s going to explode. He gets it – Niall thinks chocolate ice cream is better and Thomas disagrees. No need for a whole fucking argument about it.

“What are you getting?” Jude asks from beside him, his hand grabbing onto Harry’s arm. “Are you gonna get the one you used to always get?”

Harry frowns. He has no idea what he means. “Which one?”

“The vanilla and the chocolate swirled together.”

“Oh,” He mumbles. He doesn’t want to. Because the only reason he used to get that was because he liked chocolate and Louis liked vanilla and they would share. Yeah, no. “I think I’m going to get cookie dough this time.”

It’s not that Harry has an issue with Louis right now. After their little ‘moment’ in the hallway, things have been a bit less awkward and he’s been able to actually make eye contact with the older man without feeling like he was going to burn. The issue right now is actually Thomas for once and it’s making him uncomfortable. And maybe Harry is being a bit immature about this whole thing- jumping to conclusions and all - but he doesn’t really care.

In an attempt to somehow remind Thomas that he’s still there, Harry slips his hand onto his knee, squeezing lightly. The younger boy pauses, looks away from Niall and smiles. “Hi,” he says cutely, leaning in and pecking Harry on the lips. “You okay?”

Harry watches Louis, who’s sitting on the other side of Jude. He’s making it a point to ignore everyone else at the table, staring down at his ice cream menu. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

It’s when they’re leaving that he suddenly becomes ‘not okay’. Harry is standing by the door to the small ice cream parlor, watching Jude play one of those claw machines that you have to pay a dollar to use and you will more than likely lose. Louis is paying the bill and then there’s Niall and Thomas, laughing about something that Harry must have missed.

“Man you should visit more often! Come down when the new Fantastic Beasts comes out! We could see it together,” Niall says enthusiastically, his hand resting on Thomas’s shoulder and that’s just kind of putting Harry completely over the edge.

“Of course you could,” Harry says, interrupting whatever Thomas was about to say in response. “That’d be pretty adorable, huh?”

Thomas freezes, eyes wide. “What?”

“You and Niall. You two would be cute together.” He’s being sarcastic now and an all around asshole but he doesn’t care. Today’s been one of the worst days of his life. He thinks he’s entitled to a little bit of bitch-time. “I mean, you’ve been flirting with him all day so I’ve already been able to see how adorable you’d be as a couple.”

“What?” Niall questions, disbelief coating every word. “Harry what the hell? I wasn’t flirting with him-”

“Harry, I wasn’t,” Thomas pleads, moving forward and trying to take Harry’s hand. But Harry moves away. “Harry please! Come on!”

“Let me know when you’ve remembered that you’ve got a boyfriend, alright?” Harry says harshly, his back pushing open the door. “I’m going to get some air. I’ll meet you at Louis’ later.”

He shouldn’t have done that, he realizes after he’s walked for ten minutes. He has no idea where he is right now, but he doesn’t care and he continues walking, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, one clutching his cell phone tightly. He shouldn’t have reacted like that. It was childish of him, not to mention rude. And the look on Thomas’s face was not worth it. The poor boy looked devastated, all because of Harry. Harry feels awful. Now he’s not only hurt Louis, but Thomas as well and all in a time span of less than twenty four hours.

And Niall. He’s probably pissed Niall off now. He was rude and made assumptions. Niall won’t want to talk to him now. Not until he at least apologizes. And Harry’s pretty sure an apology won’t be enough. He’s just…All of this is getting to him. The stress is starting to pile on and it’s wearing him thinner and thinner as the days go by. He tries not to show it. But it is. And there’s not much going on that could help him. There’s nothing happening to help ease the stress. Not even Thomas being there can really help, because with that comes the issue of Louis being an asshole to him. Nothing’s easy.

“You’re fucking stupid,” He mumbles to himself as he kicks a rock down the sidewalk, “You’ve fucked up more than you can afford.”

He accused Thomas of flirting with another guy without any real grounds to base it off of. Sure, Niall was a bit touchy. Sure they were laughing and talking way too much for two people who’ve only met two days before. But Niall’s a friendly person. He likes talking to people and making them feel comfortable. He did it for Harry when he first got here a week ago. And Harry was stupid to assume anything else. And Thomas. He would never do anything to hurt Harry. Harry should know that by now. The guy can barely kill a fly in their house. He’s going to have to make it up to the both of them, somehow.

By the time he gets back to Louis’s house, it’s three hours after he stormed off. He sort of got himself lost in an unfamiliar neighborhood and then he eventually found a town with a lot of shops and things, so he spent some time browsing. He tried to find something to buy for Thomas that would convey his apologies but he couldn’t find anything that Thomas would like. He’s a simple guy. He likes simple things. But for some reason, nothing was good enough and Harry calls a taxi and walks up to Louis’ front door empty handed.

Surprisingly, it’s Niall who opens up the door for him, wearing a small, sad smile.

“Glad you found your way back. I was gonna get Liam to come with me to look for you,” He says quietly, stepping aside so that Harry can walk in. “Jude’s taking a nap. Today wore him out.”

“Right…Hey, look. I’m sorry about the way I acted before and what I said,” Harry says, trying to get across how sorry he actually is. “What I did…that’s not like me. I don’t know what happened-”

“It’s okay, Harry,” Niall interrupts, smiling a bit wider. “I understand. You’re going through a lot. There’s no possible way you could be thinking straight. Just…understand that I would never do something like that. I was just trying to be friendly, trying to make up for Louis’…less than kind reception towards Thomas. And besides, I’m not even gay. I don’t like guys. So Thomas is not even my type.” He finishes with a laugh and pats Harry on the back. “It’s all good between us, Harry.”

“I…thanks,” Harry smiles, eyes searching the small living room. It only takes him one glance around to know that the person he’s looking for isn’t in there. “Where’s Thomas?”

At that, Niall’s face falls. “Well…He wasn’t quite as understanding as I was about the situation. I mean, I guess rightfully so, because-”

“Where is he?”

“Airport,” Niall says, grimacing, “I drove him there about an hour ago. He said he’d call you when he lands at Heathrow.”

The pressure on his chest that he was feeling before only increases with this new information and his stomach turns. “I…He’s gone?”

“Um. Yeah. Listen, Harry, it’ll all blow over by tomorrow. He’s just upset.”

“But…He-”

“I’m going to make sure Jude’s good upstairs and then I have to go do a few things at work. Why don’t you just chill out down here and try not to think about what happened, alright? Thomas will call you when he lands. It’ll all be fine.”

Even though he really just wants to call Thomas right now and apologize and beg for his forgiveness, he knows that Niall is right. So he sits down on the living room couch, frowns at the TV and wonders what the hell he’s going to say to Thomas when he calls later. Maybe he should go back home for a few days, spend some time with him. A day or two away from Jude won’t hurt. It would help him get back on his feet and back in the right state of mind. It would definitely help. But at the same time, even though he knows it wouldn’t hurt him, Harry doesn’t want to leave Jude. Not when he has so little time left with him.

So okay that option is no longer available. Maybe he can send him flowers or something nice like that. Although, that kind of just seems a bit…well, not very heartfelt. He needs to do something nice and awesome and something that will have an impact. Flowers don’t really do that. He needs to really think hard about this.

It’s another two hours later that Harry has an encounter with Louis. Instead of Louis being drunk, this time it’s Harry. He found a new, unopened bottle of vodka in the kitchen that Louis must have tried to hide last night (although he did it very poorly). Harry had no issue in cracking it open and drinking straight from the bottle. He still hasn’t come up with a way to apologize. He’s screwed.

“You smell like shit,” Louis says indifferently as he sits down on the couch beside Harry. “Maybe that’s why your flirt really left.”

“I’m not in the mood for your attempt at humor,” Harry informs him, putting the bottle to his lips and tipping it back. The liquid burns going down. “I’d actually appreciate it if you would remove yourself from my vicinity.”

“I forgot how smart you sound when you’re drunk,” Louis muses, still with a smile. “But really…I uh…I just wanted to say that I um. I’m sorry. About what I said about Thomas last night. About not wanting him here.” He twists his fingers into his t-shirt, his awkwardness about the subject shining through.

“Well…Thanks. I guess,” Harry grumbles, leaning more into the couch. “Too bad he’s gone. Just like you wanted, huh Louis?”

Louis sighs, sits up straighter and looks Harry right in the eye. “I feel bad that he’s gone. Sort of. A little bit. I mean...seeing him sobbing in my living room wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it might be.”

Harry frowns, “I’m finding it hard to believe your sincerity.”

“Whatever. I’m sorry he’s gone. You probably feel awful. I don’t blame you for drinking. I couldn’t, really, considering it’s the same thing I was doing last night.”

“That’s true. It’d make you a hypocrite. Except…that thing you said about me replacing you? Right, that was a bit hypocritical.” Harry takes another, longer sip in an attempt to just wipe out everything that happened in the past few days from his memory. It’s not really possible but he can hope. “It’s just…Thomas means a lot to me…He’s the sweetest, nicest guy I’ve met in a long time and he cares about me. He cares about how I’m feeling. He cares about my relationship with Jude and, even better, he cares about my relationship with you. He wants me to be happy, Louis. That’s more than I could ever ask for.”

“He sounds…lovely,” Louis says, the sarcasm in his voice only muted slightly.

“I…But you and I…” Harry trails off, looking down at the vodka bottle, “You and Thomas are different. He’s selfless and you’re, well…selfish. He’s timid and you’re one of the most outgoing people I know. I love him, Louis. But I loved you with my whole entire being. But you left. And I don’t… I don’t –”

“Harry,” Louis interrupts, reaching over and taking the bottle out of Harry’s hands, “Thanks for um. That hug. In the hallway at the hospital. I…” He sighs, struggling to say what he needs to. As if he doesn’t want to say it, because he knows what’s going to happen as a result. But he takes a deep breath, breathes out slowly and then just goes for it. “I needed it. I need you.”

Those three little words – not the typical three words that most people would bend over backwards for – are what causes Harry’s walls to crumble. They were cracked, due to Louis’s confession the night before and the issue with Thomas. But now Louis has just admitted that he needs him. He needs Harry. And that’s something Harry will never be able to refuse.

Louis’ bedroom is dark when Harry opens the door, but he doesn’t bother turning the lights on. Louis is gently pushing him inside, hands on his waist and slowly sliding up the front of his shirt.

“Gotta be quiet,” Louis whispers, “Jude’s asleep still.”

“Kay,” Harry manages, pushing the older boy down onto the bed. He doesn’t say it out loud, but it’s been awhile since he’s actually had to be quiet in bed. His fingers stumble along the buttons on Louis’ shirt, the alcohol in his system making everything a lot more difficult than it should be. But he eventually manages, slipping the shirt over Louis’ shoulders and shoving it over the side of the bed. He looks down at his husband, seeing him like this for the first time in way too long. Everything else going on in his life is a very, very distant thought in the back of his mind – Thomas especially.

“Stop staring,” Louis mutters as he turns his head to the side.

“Can’t help it. You’re beautiful, you know?” Harry leans down, presses his nose against Louis’ cheek. “Almost forgot how beautiful.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I didn't drink that much. You had some too”

Louis moves them along, managing to pull Harry’s shirt over his head and then his jeans down his legs. All of their clothes eventually make it to the floor, scattered in various spots. Louis thinks a shirt might have landed on the lamp but he’ll worry about that and the fire hazards it might cause later.

“How long’s it been?” Harry asks as he rolls the condom on, his eyes staying locked with Louis’.

“Um. Well,” Louis blushes, covers his face with his hands. It’s the first time since he’s gotten here that Harry has seen Louis this embarrassed.

“Come on,” He encourages, smiling as he situates himself between Louis’ legs, hands resting gently on his hips. “Tell me.”

Louis mumbles something that Harry can’t make out.

“I can’t tell what you’re saying-”

“Two years,” Louis interrupts him, his blush deepening as he wraps his arms around Harry’s neck. “I haven’t slept with anyone other than you. I tried but...you're my husband. I couldn't.”

For some reason, that surprises Harry. He’s not sure why but he expected Louis to have seen other people – at least one or two. But no. Nobody. “Okay,” He says quietly, trying to keep his surprise to himself. He grabs the lube from where he left it on the table, spreading some on his fingers.

It doesn’t take long before they’re both ready and Harry is leaning on his forearms, hovering over Louis and holding his breath. This. This hasn’t happened for two years. Well…technically it has but it hasn’t happened with Louis. He locks eyes with Louis, looks for a sign of regret of some sort before pushing inside.

It’s been so long and yet everything about this is so fucking familiar. The way Louis gasps as he enters him, arches his back and wraps his legs around his waist. The way his eyelids flutter, his eyelashes brushing against Harry’s neck. The way Harry can feel his heartbeat, pressed right up against his chest. All of these things? He remembers them all.

“Oh, God,” Louis gasps once Harry is all the way in, “M-move, please.”

Harry complies, pulling out slowly and pushing back in at the same pace, trying his best not to hurt him any more than he already is. He knows Louis is trying to hide it. He knows him way too well. But he does his best to let him adjust, to let him get used to this.

“I love you,” Louis whispers suddenly, his arms pulling Harry even closer.

And Harry’s head is so clouded with lust and a million other things, he responds without a second thought, “I love you, too.”

-

By the time their heart rates are back to normal and their skin is no longer damp with sweat, Harry’s mind is clearing up. He’s staring at the ceiling, Louis’ body curled up next to his, clinging to him.

“I need you” Louis had said. He needs Harry.

But the question that runs through Harry’s head is, does Harry still need him too?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one where Harry is still an idiot but Louis makes him a little bit less idiotic?

The next morning, Harry wakes up to his cell phone buzzing from someplace on the floor. It’s vibrating obnoxiously, accompanied by some loud ring tone that Thomas downloaded for him months ago. He sits up, groans and rubs at his eyes, irritated that he’s been woken up. He leans over the side of the bed and reaches for his jeans. He’s pretty sure it’s coming from there.

“What are you doing?” Louis whines, his arms reaching out to try and keep Harry next to him. “Stop moving.”

“I just gotta see who’s calling,” Harry manages, stretching as far as he can and finally managing to grab his pants. “It might be important.” It turns out to be his boss, Marshall. He leaves a voicemail that Harry will listen to later on. “I’ll deal with that later,” He mumbles before moving back up on the bed so that he’s lying back down beside Louis. Marshall probably just wants to know when he plans on coming back to work.

Louis curls right back into him, head resting comfortably and familiarly on Harry’s chest and his arms wrapping tightly around his waist. He hums in approval, “Good. Don’t move.”

“Kay,” Harry responds, already starting to drift off back to sleep. But then he feels something wet touch his bare shoulder, and it takes him a few extra seconds to realize that Louis is crying. “Hey,” He says softly, sitting up slightly and his fingers gently gripping Louis’s chin, “What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” Louis responds dramatically. He clings to Harry’s body, his wet cheeks hot against Harry’s skin. “I want to keep this but I can’t.”

Harry, bewildered, questions, “What are you talking about?”

“This,” Louis hisses, pushing Harry roughly away from him. “Cuddling with you in bed after a night of sex and not caring about anything else!”

It hits Harry like a ton of bricks. He gets it now. He sees Louis’s point of view clear as day. But all he says is, “Oh.”

“Yeah, Harry. Oh. The second we leave this room, this is over. You have a boyfriend who’s fucking pissed off at you and is expecting you to call him. And you’re going to call him, Harry,” the older man points out, rubbing furiously at his eyes, “You have to. This – what happened last night shouldn’t have happened-”

“Hey-”

“No, stop! Don’t try and tell me otherwise! I know it was wrong. I know it was my fault! I took advantage of you while you were drunk! I-”

“Louis,” Harry interrupts, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to his sides to keep him from flailing all over the place. “Louis stop it now. Stop blaming yourself. It was nobody’s fault. It just…It just happened, alright?”

“But you’re going back to Thomas the second you get out of here and I’m going back to having nobody,” Louis whimpers,

Harry doesn’t deny it. He knows that once he and Louis detangle themselves from the sheets, they’re also detangling themselves from everything that happened in the past twelve hours or so. He has to call Thomas. He has to talk to him about what happened. And, as much as he doesn’t want to, he has to confess that he slept with Louis. He can’t keep this from him. He’s his boyfriend. He deserves to know.

When Harry doesn’t say anything, Louis just cries harder, hiding his face in his hands, legs crossed underneath him. He looks seventeen again, sitting in Harry’s bedroom, crying over his math test that he failed. If Harry had known back then that he would witness that scene again, he might have tried to do things a bit differently. How differently, he has no idea. But still.

“Hey,” He sooths, leaning forward and putting his hands on Louis’s knees, “Listen. Last night…Don’t say it was a mistake. Because it wasn’t. It just…It was wrong timing. That’s all. I’m with Thomas right now and I’m loyal to him. Well...,” Harry blushes, laughing lightly, “I was loyal to him, at least. Just …. Know that I don’t regret it, okay?”

Louis looks up and blinks a few times, eyes still watery. He sniffles, wipes at his eyes with his hand before nodding. “Yeah…I understand, I think….I mean, let’s just…Maybe-”

“Hey Louis! When should we pay this phone bill?”

The next thing Harry knows, Niall is bursting into the room, hand waving a white piece of paper that one can only assume is the phone bill that is the subject of his sentence. He stops in the doorway, eyes widening when he sees the situation.

“What the fuck,” is all he says, not bothering to hide his shock. “Christ. I think my eyes are burning,” He slaps his hand over his eyes in a dramatic fashion and leaves as quickly has he entered, the phone bill still in his hands and him still without an answer.

“That’ll be uh….weird to explain,” Louis jokes lightly, sniffling once more. He seems to be past the crying stage, now just in the depressed stage. “Anyway…I was saying, maybe tonight we could go to dinner or something and we could talk. Like, really talk. About everything. And Liam and Niall can take Jude somewhere so he won’t interrupt or anything.”

“Everything? Like, why you left? Why you stopped-”

“Yes, Harry. Everything.”

“Okay, then. We can do that.”

“Thanks,” Louis smiles, the shy smile Harry used to know so well. “I…I guess you should go and call Thomas now, huh?”

-

“You really hurt me.”

“I know,” Harry says softly into the phone, leaning his head against the bathroom door, “I know I did. And I hate that I did it. I didn’t mean to. I was just…my head wasn’t in the right place. I wish I could take it back. I really do.”

Harry bites his lip. He still has to tell Thomas about what he did last night. About how he betrayed him and slept with Louis. He’s not sure how Thomas will take it. It’s so hypocritical of Harry – sleeping with his “ex” after accusing his current boyfriend of flirting with someone else. He just hopes Thomas won’t get too upset. He’s not sure what he would do without his support.

“I know you do, Harry,” Thomas says and Harry can hear the smile in his voice. “Let’s just forget about it, then. It was a stupid fight. It’s done. Let’s move on.”

“Really?” Harry asks, bewildered that Thomas has just so easily put this past them, “I…Well. Okay. We can do that.” He bites his tongue, keeps himself from saying the one thing he really needs to. He’s not sure why he’s hiding this – it can only end badly for him. But for some reason, his vocal chords just won’t form the words.

“Yeah. Um. Anyway, how are you doing? Do you need me to do anything for you or-”

“Thomas,” Harry suddenly interrupts, his brain realizing how selfish he’s been these past few weeks. “Thomas I’m going to ask you something and I want you to answer me as truthfully as you can, alright?”

Hesitancy obvious in his tone, Thomas agrees, “Alright….”

Harry breathes in deep, pinches the bridge of his nose as he says, “You’ve been nothing but absolutely selfless ever since I met you. You never ask me for anything. So, tell me something right now – tell me something you want me to do for you. Tell me what I can do to make you happy. Because that’s all I want, Thomas. I want you to be happy. And recently I’ve forgotten to do that.”

“Harry, really – there’s nothing I want-”

“You’re lying to me,” Harry calls him out, “Don’t lie. Tell me one thing. And I’ll do it. I promise.”

“I….Harry…”

“What, Thomas?”

“I guess….there’s one thing.”

-

“Hey, Harry? Can I talk to you really fast before you go?”

Harry freezes, his hand in the process of running through his hair as he stands in Louis’ upstairs hallway. Liam is standing before him, nervous expression all too obvious on his face. He has his arms folded across his chest and he’s waiting for Harry’s answer.

“Sure, I guess,” Harry responds, trying his best to sound indifferent but deep down he’s kind of nervous. Liam scares him.

“I just wanted to apologize, really,” the older man says, biting his lip and looking quite sheepish. “For being such an ass to you at first. I just…When I met Louis, he was really, really broken. I saw him at his lowest point over the last two years. And I know that it wasn’t your fault – Louis was wrong in leaving you like he did. But he’s still my best friend. I still love him like he’s my brother and when I met you, I couldn’t just shake the thought that you were the cause of all the pain he was going through when we met,” Liam explains slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, “So…Anyway. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have acted that way. Can you forgive me?”

Harry nods dumbly, reaches out and shakes Liam’s hand, forming some sort of truce, or something. “Of course, yeah. Definitely.”

“And…Niall told me about what he walked in on this morning,” Liam blushes, clearly feeling awkward about this conversation just like Harry suddenly is. “I…I think talking is going to do the both of you a lot of good. I just really, really hope you’re taking Thomas into account with all of this. He was a really nice guy when we met him and he’s clearly in love with you-”

“I’ve already spoken to Thomas,” Harry mumbles, keeping the little fact that he didn’t tell him about sleeping with Louis. “I love him too.”

“That’s part of the problem Louis really had with him at Disney on Saturday. He saw the look on Thomas’ face every time you two were talking, or just standing beside each other. He was jealous.”

Harry laughs, suddenly getting an overwhelming feeling of awkwardness, “I figured. Thanks, though, Liam. I appreciate the apology and whatnot. But I kind of have to get downstairs or Louis will be pissed that we’re running late.”

“And that would be counterproductive,” Liam jokes, stepping aside to let Harry towards the stairs. “Have fun tonight.”

“Thanks. And thanks for watching Jude. You and your boyfriend didn’t have to.”

“Zayn loves Jude so it’s no big deal. He’s probably got tons of games and shit to keep him occupied for hours. Possibly days.”

“Sweet. You won’t have any problems with him, then.”

“No, of course we will. He shares both yours and Louis’s genes, doesn’t he?”

-

The restaurant that Louis has taken him to is nice – pretty fancy, actually. There are white tablecloths and dim lighting and everyone’s dressed up pretty nicely. Harry feels a bit underdressed in his black jeans and white button up but Louis is wearing relatively the same type of thing so he figures it’s okay.

They’re sitting at a corner table towards the back of the restaurant, with the maximum amount of privacy possible. Louis is sitting across from Harry, fingers picking apart a piece of bread from the bread basket in the middle of the table.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, putting the bread down on a plate and looking up at Harry with worried eyes. “I’m nervous.”

“Since when are you nervous around me?” Harry asks, smiling kindly and trying to calm Louis’s nerves. If he’s honest, though, he’s really nervous too. His conversation with Thomas is stuck in his head, Thomas’s request right at the forefront. He promised Thomas he’d do it, and even though it’s not exactly the most appealing thing to Harry right now, he’s going to have to.

“Since we’re kind of sort of in a way ‘separated’ from each other, I guess?” Louis returns, his tone slightly sarcastic. “I mean. It’s my fault that we are but still.”

“Well don’t be nervous. Just talk to me. You’ve never had a problem with talking.”

“True… I guess… Well I mean, you know why I left. The main reason.”

“We were fighting and nothing was going right and you gave up,” Harry says, shrugging at his simple word usage.

“Well yeah,” Louis blushes hard, “That’s pretty much…accurate, yeah. And I was a coward that was too afraid to try and fix us.”

Harry doesn’t say anything because he really doesn’t even know where to start.

Louis seems to notice that. “Anyway…I just. The thing is…that year of being without you really sucked.” He laughs awkwardly, his fingers grabbing a different piece of bread and starting to tear that one apart as well. “And I realized pretty quickly that I needed you. That really, I’d always need you. But like I said…I was a coward. I was afraid to go crawling back because I thought you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

Now, Harry notices, his hands are actually shaking as he destroys the roll, his eyes shiny and wet with tears. “Breathe, Louis,” Harry reminds him, reaching out and taking the bread away, instead lacing their fingers together in an attempt to be comforting.

“So I just kept putting off telling you I wanted to come home. I was so selfish, telling Jude that we’d go home soon even though I wasn’t sure if we'd even ever go back…And then he got sick and I realized – I needed you. Whether you wanted me or not. So…that day I called you and you told me about Thomas? Remember?”

Harry nods, squeezing Louis’s hand tighter. “Of course I do. We fought-”

“You told me you were dating Thomas and you wanted to talk about legally separating and…” He takes a deep breath, eyes finally meeting Harrys. “I finally found out that you definitely didn’t need me. So I freaked out. I was terrified because I was suddenly alone and I…I moved again and changed my number and swore up and down I would never see you again.”

“I figured as much,” Harry mumbles, pulling his hand from Louis’s grip.

“I mean, the next day I realized how wrong I was but I was embarrassed and terrified and just…I’m sorry Harry. I didn’t mean…I didn’t want all of this to happen to us.”

The waiter’s back, placing two glasses of water down on the table. Louis suggested they get wine but after last night, Harry doesn’t think he’ll be drinking too much for a while. His guilty conscious will make sure of that. They order their dinner, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. Now that everything’s been admitted and half-way explained, it’s weird. Where do they go from here now? Should Harry say what he needs to now? Or after? Or maybe never? That last one sounds the most appealing.

“I um…So we need to figure out exactly how to go about…everything,” Louis says quietly, his finger tracing the rim of the water glass. He looks up shyly at Harry, afraid to say what he really means.

“What do you mean by ‘everything’?” Harry questions, sighing. “You’re being just a bit vague.”

“I mean…You know….Jude’s only got a couple weeks left-”

“Two,” Harry mumbles.

“Exactly…I just… I don’t even know how I’m going to handle this, Harry.”

“You’ve got me,” the younger points out, hesitantly reaching out and taking Louis’s hand in his. He still hasn’t told Louis what he wanted to – what Thomas asked of him. But he’ll do it soon. Now would be a bit insensitive of him.“I’m here. We’ve gotta get through it together. I promise we will.”

They might not be leaving the restaurant any differently than they came in – relationship wise, at least – but they are, somehow, united again. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna try posting the remaining chapters throughout the day but I've been feeling sick for two days straight. It's not a cold or anything but I can just tell something is not right with my body right now. If it gets worse I'm gonna just suck it up and head to the ER since my primary doctor isn't open until Tuesday. I'll try to update as much as I can!


	11. Chapter 11

“When are you going to move in here?”

Harry stiffens, his fingers tightening around the blanket that he’s trying to fold. He’s standing in Jude’s room, trying to help the eight year old clean it up so that when Louis comes home from wherever the hell he went, he won’t flip out if it isn’t cleaned. “What do you mean?” Harry finds himself asking as he puts the blanket on the bed, “Move in?”

Jude nods eagerly, “Yeah. Live here? Like before we moved here? Since you and Daddy aren’t fighting anymore?”

He already knew what Jude meant, but he was hoping that maybe there was a slight chance that he was wrong. He doesn’t want to talk about this – he doesn’t even know what to say. But he smiles and shrugs anyway, sitting down on the edge of Jude’s bed. “I don’t know, buddy. We’ll see.”

“What about when it’s just you and Daddy?”

Harry’s heart stops for a second at those words. They’ve run through his head so many times over the past few days, watching Jude get weaker and weaker. He’s currently got a bad cold, sniffles and all. His body is trying to fight it off but his immune system is destroyed. He barely has any fight left in him. Soon, it really will just be Louis and Harry and that thought alone terrifies him. What’s he going to do when he actually has to deal with it? These past two weeks, being able to spend them with his son, have been amazing despite the little setbacks with Louis and Thomas. Harry is positive that he’s not going to be able to go back to the way it was before. He can’t do it.

“Well…” Harry trails off, rubbing at the back of his neck. He knows that Louis has already talked to Jude about everything – his illness, what’s going to happen. But that doesn’t make him feel any less awkward. If he had known when Jude was born that he’d be sitting in his bedroom eight years later, talking to him about what would happen after he passed away, he might have done things differently. He says it all the time now, but it doesn’t make it any less true. “Daddy and I are…Well we’re gonna be…”

He can’t bring himself to actually finish his sentence. He wants to lie and say that they’re going to be okay. That they’ll be fine and that they’ll have each other. But suddenly it’s become so much harder for him to even breathe. His throat feels tight – that familiar signal that he’s going to start crying. But he swallows hard, forces a smile and just nods, “We’ll have each other.”

At first, the eight year old doesn’t look entirely convinced. He sits there with his legs crossed underneath him and his head tilted to one side as if he’s trying to dissect Harry’s words to find the lie hidden behind them. But Harry apparently does a decent job of covering it up, because after a few seconds, the boy smiles and nods as well. “Okay.”

-

“You haven’t said a single word since you came back from putting Jude to bed,” Louis states from his spot on the couch, opposite from where Harry currently sits. “We may have spent two years apart but I definitely remember the little fact that you get all silent when you’re thinking about things.”

“I’m thinking about Jude,” Harry admits quickly, not even trying to hide his thoughts. He shares most things with Louis lately. He finds it pointless not to. They had sex, talked about everything they’ve needed to. It’s like they’re together again – except not. Because Harry is still with Thomas and is supposed to be meeting Thomas’ request. “He’s getting worse, Lou”

“I…I know,” Louis mumbles, his hands rubbing over his face once before looking over at Harry with a saddened expression. “His cold is getting worse. And he couldn’t even walk up the stairs by himself earlier. Niall had to help him. It’s happening, Harry. We don’t have much longer-”

“I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

Harry brings his knees up in front of them, rests his chin on top and tries to stare at the TV and ignore how close Louis has suddenly become. He feels the older man’s arm wrap around his shoulders, his fingers drawing small, simple patterns. He wants to push him away because he has Thomas, but if he’s being honest? He just doesn’t care anymore. He doesn’t have the energy needed to push Louis away. Mentally and physically. He does, however, have the strength to bring up Thomas’s request. The one that he made days ago.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” He says softly, leaning a little bit away from Louis’s touch. “About something I spoke to Thomas about the other day.”

Louis tenses up at the sound of Thomas’s name. “Yeah?”

“We’re…Louis as much as I love you, we’re not together right now. Thomas is my boyfriend. He has been for a while and he’s been there for me through some of the toughest things I’ve ever had to go through. And he pretty much sacrifices everything to do things for me and I need…I need to do something for him. I need to talk to you about legally separating – a divorce.”

Louis, as Harry expected him to be, is silent for a while. He sits there, staring at his hands resting on top of his knees. He’s breathing deeply, in and out, and Harry sort of wants to just tell him to forget it – that they can talk about this another day. But he’s put it off for too long –it’s been days since Thomas asked him to and days since he’s even spoken to Thomas since. He has to do it. It needs to be done.

“I don’t…Harry,” Louis shakes his head, bites his lower lip and doesn’t even look over at the younger man, “I understand. But I just…How do you feel about it?”

“Well…”

Harry’s frown becomes more prominent. This is the first time he’s looked at the question and thought about his feelings towards it. He’s not…He’s not exactly completely all for it, he realizes. He doesn’t really want to divorce Louis. And now, sitting in Louis’s living room while his son is sleeping upstairs, everything seems so normal. A divorce would ruin that. Louis wouldn’t be his husband anymore. He’d be his ex-husband and then everything would be so strange. Louis used to be all he ever knew. He still is pretty much all he knows. Ninety percent of his past fifteen or so years has involved Louis somehow. Only about five percent has involved Thomas.

“I don’t… I don’t really know,” He finally responds, looking over at Louis. “I don’t know how I feel about it.”

“Well, I guess there’s your answer then, huh Harry?”

Louis stands up, clicks off the TV and walks away, simple as that. As if Harry didn’t just ask to divorce him and he was merely asking how he felt about the weather. He’s gone and up the stairs before Harry can even protest, and Harry finds himself about to cry again. And he still has to call Thomas.

-

“How’s Jude?”

“I…he’s okay. He’s sick, though. He has a bad cold and it’s just getting worse. It’s getting more and more obvious that I’m going to lose him any day now and…”

“Harry. I’m so sorry. I wish there was-”

“Don’t. It’s fine,” Harry interrupts, wiping at his eyes from where he’s sitting on his hotel bed. He tightens his grip on his phone and says, “Listen. I spoke to Louis about um. Divorcing him.”

“Oh.”

Harry bites his lip at how nervous Thomas sounds. “He didn’t exactly take it well and he didn’t take it badly either. He just… I don’t think now is a good time to try and talk to him about this. You know?”

Thomas sighs into the phone and Harry can picture him running his fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, Harry. I can wait. Take your time.”

But Harry can hear that little bit of irritation underneath that painfully patient tone. And he realizes, he can’t keep doing this anymore.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally home from the hospital. It was nothing major just a series of panic attacks that were causing my heart to act a little crazy. This whole hospital chapter is just a coincidence. 
> 
> Anyway I love Jude so much.

The incessant beeping of the heart monitor is almost enough to drive Harry crazy. It’s a good thing – a really good thing, of course. It just means that Jude is still breathing. Still alive. Still here. But it’s fucking annoying. Harry can’t even try and deny that. But he won’t say it out loud. Louis will just glare at him and tell him he’s selfish or something along those lines. He’s been in a terrible mood this past week or so. He has every right to be, of course, but still.

Jude’s cold, the same one he’s had for the past week and a half, seems to be getting the best of him. The doctor’s said that it would happen – he’d catch something as common as a cold and suddenly his health would just start going downhill and there wouldn’t be anything they could do to stop it. And Harry thinks he’s accepted it. For the most part. When Doctor Cole told him and Louis that it would be best to have him admitted into the hospital, in order to give him the best care they possibly could, he agreed without hesitation. Louis was a bit more…opposed to the idea. But Harry managed to convince him.

When he was further diagnosed at the hospital, they were told that Jude’s cold developed into Rheumatic fever. Harry listened carefully while the doctor spoke about what would happen next – high fevers, joint pain, skin rashes, heart problems. Jude’s immune system, as hard as it’ll try to defend him, just can’t do it anymore.

“Harry?”

Louis’ voice is harsh and shoves Harry out of his thoughts. He snaps his head up, eyes landing on Louis’ form, slumped in one of the uncomfortable chairs next to Jude’s bed. Harry smiles, acknowledging the call of his name.

“I think I’m going to head down to the cafeteria and get a coffee or a soda or something,” Louis says softly this time, pushing himself up and out of the chair that he’s been sitting in for the past twelve hours. “Do you want me to get you something?”

Harry shrugs, stretches his arms out in front of him. He hears his bones pop as he does so and he winces at the sound. “A coffee would be nice, actually.”

Louis nods, “Okay. I’ll be back soon, then. You’ll be okay on your own?”

Looking over at his son, seeing that he’s stirring from his sleep, Harry nods. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Once Louis is gone from the room, Harry sinks back into his chair. That was the first time all day that Louis has spoken to him in a slightly friendly tone. Harry knows it’s just because he’s so stressed and so nervous, but still. It’s put Harry on edge and now that he’s out of the room, he will take the opportunity to relax.

But Jude is still waking up, shifting around in the sheets that are probably terribly uncomfortable. Harry frowns, reaches out and puts his hand on his shoulder in an attempt to let him know that he’s there. He doesn’t want his son waking up in a hospital room not knowing where he is or what’s going on. He wants him to feel safe. As safe as possible.

“Dad?”

Jude’s voice is rough and scratchy – unused. He’s been asleep for the past few hours. He sits up in the hospital bed, rubbing at his eyes and frowning when he sees that Louis’ chair is now empty, unlike the way it was before he fell asleep.

“Where’d Daddy go?”

“He’ll be back soon,” Harry assures him, “He just went to go get some coffee.”

“Okay.” The eight year old remains quiet for a few moments, breathing deeply and trying to wake up completely. Finally, he looks back over at Harry and asks, “Are we a family again?”

Harry’s breath gets caught in his throat. He wasn’t expecting that question, wasn’t expecting anything along those lines. He blinks a few times more than necessary, clears his throat and responds, “What do you mean?”

“You, me and Daddy? Like before we moved to Donny?”

Jude looks so small and fragile in the hospital bed that Harry can’t bring himself to say anything other than, “Of course we are.”

“What about Thomas? Is he gonna live with us too?”

“I…well, no. I mean…Do you like Thomas?” Harry questions.

Jude nods, leans his head back against his pillow and smiles. “Yeah. He’s fun. He’d be a cool big brother.”

Harry’s heart clenches in his chest. It hurts too much. This is all getting to be too overwhelming. All Jude wants is for him and Louis to be together again. Like they used to be. Like they should still be. To him, Thomas is just a friend of Harry’s and he’s doing nothing to interfere with Louis and Harry’s relationship. He wants things to go back to normal – as normal as they can be before he passes away. And Harry realizes, he wants that too. He wants Louis. He wants his husband back.

“Why did you and Daddy stop living together?” Jude asks, interrupting Harry’s thoughts again.

Harry sighs. He can’t ignore the questions. But he can kind of avoid it. “You know that me and Daddy love you, right? We love you so much –”

“And you love each other?”

Jude’s eyes are wide and expectant, staring at his father. Harry feels the tears pricking at his eyes and he puts his head in his hands, sighing deeply. “Yeah, buddy. We love each other. So much. And I’m sorry that we ever let you doubt that.”

\--------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, Harry is in Jude’s room, digging through piles of clean laundry to find a few pairs of clothes to bring to him in the hospital. There’s a huge weight in his shoulders, he feels. Jude’s never coming home to this house again. He’s going to have to stay in the hospital until his illness gets the best of him. He’ll never sleep in this bed, never walk through the door again. Harry’s succumbed to breaking down into tears quite a few times since he’s come to that realization. But he’s trying to stay strong. He can’t go back to the hospital looking like a wreck. He doesn’t want to look weak in front of Louis and Jude.

But as he’s moving one pile of clothes aside, he knocks over a stack of construction paper, all colored on with crayons and markers and it’s obvious that Jude drew on them not too long ago. He groans and bends down, gathering them all up. One catches his eye, though. It’s a white piece of paper, and at the top it reads ‘Family’ in sloppy purple crayon. Underneath that, there are three stick figures, labeled with names. ‘Dad’. ‘Daddy’. ‘Jude’. Something wet hits the paper, making some of the letters smudge slightly and Harry realizes that he’s crying.

All of the other papers have relatively the same things. Jude’s drawings of their ‘family’. Harry’s fingers crumple them slightly, his grip too tight and he has to sit down on the edge of Jude’s bed. His head is spinning, the room is spinning. His thoughts are a jumbled mess – except for one. One that stands out from the others. One that is so obviously the right choice.

Jude wants them to be a family. He wants his parents to be together like they used to be. And Harry can’t keep lying to himself anymore. He wants it too. He wants to be there for Louis completely, one hundred percent. He’s been keeping it hidden, ignoring it and pretending the desire to be with him again wasn’t there. But he’ll acknowledge it, now. He wants it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments on the last chapter. I just don't have the energy to answer back but I do appreciate you.

He doesn’t just decide to go home without thinking it through, first. He sat down, thought about it for a long time. It was hard coming up with this decision but nobody can tell him that he hasn’t thought it through. He has. And he knows it’s the right choice. He needs to see Thomas – needs to talk to him about everything. He can’t keep living two lives anymore. Because that’s practically what he’s doing now – splitting his love between him and Louis. It can’t work that way. It won’t work that way.

Louis is the most vocal about it. He doesn’t want Harry to go. His argument is solid – Harry will give him that. He thinks that by leaving, Harry will have less time to spend with Jude, who really only has a few days left. But Harry spoke to the doctors – they promised him more than two days. And that’s all Harry needs. A day or two to sort things with Thomas. The younger boy deserves an explanation. He’s been amazing and Harry doesn’t want to hurt him more than he’s guaranteed to.

“Please don’t do this.”

The voice comes from the doorway and Harry already knows that Louis is standing there, leaning against it with a frown on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. He’s probably got tears in his eyes too, in an attempt to be more convincing. But Harry’s not having any of it – he’s already made up his mind.

“You should be sort of happy that I’m doing this,” The younger boy says, zippering up his backpack. “I thought this was what you wanted. Me, no strings attached. Like it used to be.”

He watches Louis bite his lip, clearly not sure how to answer. “I just…I’m worried.”

“We’ve been over this a million times!” Harry says, exasperated. He walks over to Louis, takes both hands in his own. “The doctor said it’s okay for me to leave. Jude’s okay for a few days. I…He won’t even know I’m gone. Just-”

Louis sighs, “That’s not it,” he says, interrupting Harry. He pushes the younger boy away from him. “I know that a day or two won’t matter much. I just…What if when you get back home, you realize that I’m not what you really want? I’m not who you really want.”

“Oh.”

Louis slumps his shoulders, retreats over to the guest bed. He sits down, stares up at Harry with a rather lost expression. “I can’t lose you again. Not when I just got you back.”

“I’m not…I’m not going to do that to you,” Harry says, sitting down beside him. “I belong here. With you. I always have. You just pushed me away for a bit. But if you promise me you’re not going to run away from me again, I’ll be here.”

“I can promise that,” Louis says quickly, pressing his forehead against Harry’s. He sighs, laces their fingers together. “I promise I’ll never leave you like that again.”

“Okay then,” Harry mumbles, “That’s settled. I have to be at the airport in an hour. Will you drive me?”

Louis nods as he wraps his arms around Harry’s waist. He rests his head on his shoulder, and Harry can feel his heartbeat through his thin t-shirt. He doesn’t want to leave him. But he has to.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Without any luggage, it’s easy for Harry to walk down to the end of the street, where people are waiting for a taxi to get home. Harry stands there, arms crossed in front of him self-consciously. The lack of luggage means that he’s not here to stay. And Thomas is going to notice that quickly. Harry’s not looking forward to their conversation.

He manages to get a cab not too long later, but the ride from Heathrow to the home that he and Thomas still share is a little over a half an hour – plenty of time for him to try and come up with a way to start the conversation that absolutely needs to take place. It can’t be put off. Harry needs to fly back later tonight. He doesn’t want Jude to realize he’s gone.

The front door is locked and Harry can’t be bothered with searching through his backpack for his keys, so he reaches into the potted plant that sits right next to the door and pulls out the little plastic rock that hides the spare key. For the first time, he’s glad that Thomas insisted they needed this.

When he walks into the house and sees all the photos hanging up on the walls and resting on bookshelves and the mantelpiece, it suddenly hits him – everything that he’s about to lose. He’s created a life here – a new one, one that’s Louis-free. And to say that it didn’t make him happy would be a lie. He was happy here. The key word being was. There was always a hole where Louis was – an obvious one. Nobody could ever fill that. No matter how hard Thomas tried – and God, did he try – he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t match Louis.

“Harry?”

Harry looks away from the frames, pushing the memories within them to the back of his mind. He doesn’t want to think about what’ll happen to them after he leaves here. He finds Thomas standing in the kitchen doorway, grinning like a fool. An unsuspecting fool.

“Hey,” Harry greets him, returning the smile just for something to do. He shrugs his shoulders, not really knowing what else to do. Thomas doesn’t seem to catch on to this, because the next moment he’s rushing forward and enveloping Harry in a hug, burying his face in his neck.

“What are you doing here?”

Harry tenses. And that’s what gives him away. Thomas pulls back, slowly – almost like he’s afraid to look at Harry. He glances at the backpack at Harry’s feet, his eyes filling with the realization that this isn’t what he thinks it is. He’s not just coming home for the weekend to hang out because he misses him.

“What’s going on?”

“We need…I need to talk to you,” Harry says softly, managing to speak without stuttering or hesitating. He reaches forward, lets his hand gently brush across Thomas’s cheekbones. He bites his lip, tries to keep himself from tearing up. Because looking at Thomas now, knowing that he’s about to break his heart? It hurts, he won’t deny it.

Thomas blinks, reaching up and covering Harry’s hand with his own. “About what? Why are you here? Is everything okay?”

Wordlessly, Harry pulls the younger boy by the hand into the living room, pushes him gently down so that he’s sitting on the couch. He sits down beside him, barely leaving room between them. He watches Thomas get comfortable, bringing his legs up underneath him and wrapping his arms around his legs. He does that when he’s nervous.

“Is Jude alright?” Thomas asks, his voice small and anxious. He probably thinks Harry’s here to tell him something concerning the eight year old.

“He’s in the hospital right now,” Harry says softly, “His health went downhill pretty quickly. We don’t…they think he has a few days left. I… I don’t really know what’s going to happen when he’s gone.”

He’s thought about how it’s going to be. He’s lived two years without Jude but at least then he knew he was alive – that he was okay. It’ll be a completely different thing once he passes away and Harry isn’t sure if he’ll even be able to handle it.

The boy beside him knows that. He knows Harry like the back of his hand, really. He’s spent nearly a year and a half with him and has been with him through his most recent ups and downs. He knows how Harry works. “You’ll make it,” he says quietly, “You’re strong enough.”

Harry shakes his head. “I don’t think I am,” he confesses, “I’m not. He’s…Louis and I…You knew from the beginning of our relationship that I still loved Louis.” He waits for Thomas’s acknowledgment, and when he gets it (a small, uncertain nod), he takes a deep breath and just says what he needs to. What’s going to hurt him. “I need him. To get through this…we need each other. And for so long I’ve been trying to ignore that we’re meant for each other. But I can’t anymore. I can’t give him up.”

“Harry,” Thomas chokes, his eyes suddenly wet with tears as he realizes that this is it – that everything he’s known for the past year is crashing down. “Y-you can’t. Please.” He’s begging now, moving in closer and making fists in the fabric of Harry’s t-shirt. “I thought-”

 

“I slept with him.”

The silence that follows is unbearable. Harry bites down harder on his lip as he takes Thomas into a tight hug. He squeezes him close, feeling helpless as he sobs into his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, his lips ghosting over his hair and his breath hitching in his throat. He expected it to be hard but for some reason, this is overwhelming. “I’m sorry I let you down.”

It feels like forever before either of them move. Thomas is the first to do so, reaching up and wiping at his eyes. He avoids eye contact with Harry, puts a bit of distance between them and Harry feels horrible. This is never what he wanted. He never intended for this to happen.

“You’ll find someone better,” he promises, reaching out and lacing their fingers together, as if he wants to just offer one last little bit of comfort. “The person who you’re meant to be with.”

Thomas pulls away from him and puts even more space between them. Harry watches as he twists his fingers into his own shirt, sniffling and fighting back tears.

“I just… I honestly thought that person was you.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter before the epilogue. 
> 
> Y'all knew this was coming but I'm still sorry...
> 
>  
> 
> Uh....enjoy?

“You fucking asshole!”

Harry freezes in the doorway, backpack hanging off his shoulder by one strap, his eyes wide and facial expression clearly showing that he wasn’t quite expecting such a rude welcoming home. Actually, he really wasn’t expecting one at all.

“What?” the younger boy asks cautiously, dropping his bag at his feet. Apart from the fact that Louis is yelling at him, there are other things totally wrong with this situation. “Why are you home? What’s going on?”

Louis ignores his question, “You didn’t even call me to tell me that you’d be back today!” He advances on Harry, his eyes angry and hands formed into fists. Harry takes a step backwards. “I was calling your cell for the past two hours!”

“It died,” Harry says weakly, his back hitting the front door, Louis standing right in front of him. “I didn’t bring my charger. I just-”

Louis narrows his eyes. “Did it really or were you ignoring me on purpose to prolong telling me that you’re not leaving Thomas?”

Realization washes over Harry. He sighs heavily, puts both hands on Louis’s shoulders and pushes him back. “It died. I was not ignoring you. I broke up with Thomas. Take a deep breath and calm down because you’re going to make yourself sick.”

“I…” Louis slumps his shoulders and looks down at the floor. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Forget about it,” Harry says softly, reaching out and grabbing Louis’ wrist, bringing him closer. “It’s fine.” He presses their lips together quickly before pulling back and pressing their foreheads together. “It’s just you and me now. No third party.”

Louis pales at those words and Harry realizes how bad that sounded. “I – shit. I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant-”

“He’s in a really bad state,” Louis tells Harry, interrupting his explanation. “He went downhill so fast after you left yesterday…He’s so weak, Harry. They said it could be any day now.”

“I…w-why are you home, then? Why aren’t you at the hospital with him?”

“I just wanted to shower and change clothes. Liam and Niall forced me to. They said I was starting to smell,” Louis cracks a smile at that, but Harry can tell that he’s really struggling to mean it. “I was actually going to head back right now. You um. You want to go with me?”

Harry nods, his head feeling light and his heart feeling like it’s got a ten pound weight on it. “Let me just put my stuff in your room.”

\--------------------------------------------------------

“He hasn’t eaten anything since right before you left yesterday.”

Harry sighs, sits down in the chair right beside his son’s bed. Jude is asleep, lying flat in the bed. The heart monitor is beeping steadily, which is really the only comfort to Harry at all. Jude is pale and his breathing is labored and it’s just so obvious that they’re going to lose him at any time now.

“They said if he doesn’t eat anything when he wakes up…they could give him the nutrients he needs through IV but…by doing that, they really won’t be giving him much more time.”

“He’s suffering,” Harry says softly, reaching out and brushing his hand against his son’s forehead. “Look at how hard he’s trying just to breathe. I don’t think we should prolong that.”

He looks up at Louis who’s standing beside him, chewing on his fingernails and eyes wet. “I know,” he whispers, “I just…”

“You don’t want to lose him. I know. But we’re going to. One way or another. We’ve talked about this. I don’t want him to be in any more pain than he needs to be.”

“No, I know you’re right. It’s just so hard, Harry. How are we supposed to just…just watch him die? After raising him and teaching him how to live?”

Harry doesn’t answer, because he really isn’t sure how to. No parent would know how to.

\--------------------------------------------------------

It’s one in the morning when Louis finally falls asleep. He’s in Harry’s lap, head on his shoulder and breathing evenly. It comforts Harry to know that at least he’s getting a little bit of rest. Liam and Niall couldn’t even tell him the last time they saw him sleep more than a half hour in this hospital. Harry thinks maybe he can sleep now because Harry is here, holding him and telling him everything will be fine. He’s lying to him but he doesn’t care. Whatever helps him sleep for a bit.

Jude’s awake, watching some show on the Disney Channel that’s from the nineties. Harry recognizes it from his own childhood and he finds himself being sucked in, watching it just as intensely as his son is. The heart monitor, Louis’ light breathing and Jude’s heavy breathing sort of get tuned out, and Harry feels like everything is normal again. They’re not in a hospital room, Jude’s not dying and nothing’s about to change. But then he snaps out of it and everything sucks again.

Somehow, the reality of it all doesn’t hurt as bad as it did before he left the other day. Before he left, he wasn’t sure how he could possibly make Jude happy, how he could help him feel better about the fact that he’d be leaving his parents soon. How could he? The boy is only eight years old. There’s no possible way that he could be content with and at peace with something like dying. Despite how many times he and Louis have spoken to him about it.

But earlier, when Jude noticed Louis holding onto Harry’s arm, his face, which had been lacking any kind of expression, lit up and Harry realized something. That’s all Jude’s ever really wanted – his parents to be together again, like they were before everything happened. At eight years old, he already knows that it won’t be easy for them after he’s gone. And he knows that being together is the only way they’ll get through this in one piece. He’s too smart for Harry to comprehend sometimes. But maybe that should be a comfort to him. He helped raise such a caring, intelligent, selfless little boy. It’s amazing how you only start to really see those things when it’s coming down to the end.

Somehow, Harry thinks they really will be okay. Him and Louis. Not for a long time, of course. Years, maybe. But it’ll slowly stop hurting so much as time passes. Jude won’t really be gone completely. They’ll have memories and pictures.

Moving on will be hard, but not impossible.

\--------------------------------------------------------

When the heart monitor stops beeping, Harry’s not too sure what to think first. The room is silent now, aside from Louis’ sobbing and Liam’s hushed attempts to comfort him. Harry can barely register Niall’s hand on his back and whatever the doctor is saying is being ignored by everyone in the room. As prepared for this moment as he was, nothing can really stop the sudden pain in his chest from the realization that he’s gone. He’s not going to wake up and talk to him about his new Pokémon game or the Spiderman movie that’s supposed to be on later. Harry will never see his smile again or hear his laugh or anything. A huge part of his life is just gone now.

Somehow – Harry isn’t entirely sure how – they all end up in the hallway, the doctor claiming that they weren’t allowed to be in the room anymore. Louis is still crying, but Harry can’t bring himself to do the same. He needs to be strong for Louis.

“If you could go and wait in the waiting room down the hall, I’ll send Samantha over to talk to you about what happens next,” Doctor Cole says, looking down at the clipboard in his hands and writing words that Harry wishes he could see.

As he heads down towards his office at the opposite end of the hall, Louis pulls away from Liam and latches onto Harry, managing to whisper, “I don’t want to know what’s next.”

“It’s okay,” is all Harry can come up with. He pulls the older boy in closer, rests his chin on his head as he rubs his back. “It’s alright.”

“I don’t want her to try and tell me that I’ll get over it,” Louis continues, “I don’t want to talk to her.”

“I’ll do it then. Don’t worry. I’ve got you, alright?”

“I feel like part of me’s missing now.”

“I know…And it’s going to feel like that for a while,” Harry says softly, leaning down and pressing his lips against his forehead. Louis is the only thing in his life right now that he can depend on. “But you’ve still got me. You’ll always have me. We’re in this together.”

Louis sighs heavily, lifts his head as he takes a step back. He manages a weak smile, “That’s all he ever really wanted, I think.”

Jude Lucas Styles  
April 21, 2008 – May 21, 2016  
Always In Our Hearts


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a plane waiting to take off so I thought I would post this but shhh my phone is supposed to be on airplane mode. 
> 
> Here's the last chapter. I know this story broke many hearts but I hope you enjoyed reading it.

“So, you’re meeting Liam after work, right?”

Harry looks up from his bowl of cereal, finding Louis standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His spoon is in his hand, hovering over the bowl. He’s frozen in surprise, because seriously – why is Louis out of bed before seven? Especially today?

“I am, yeah. He said he’d be by to see you tomorrow…”

“So you’ll be home a bit late?” Louis asks quickly, his fingers twisting into the fabric of the t-shirt he’s wearing. Harry’s pretty sure it’s his.

“Probably at seven. Why?”

Louis shrugs, leans up against the doorway and with a nervous expression he says, “Well I was thinking I could make dinner or something? If you don’t want me to that’s fine I just thought maybe it would be a good distraction for me and maybe-”

Harry cuts off his rambling, “That’d be great, Louis.” He stands up and dumps his uneaten cereal into the garbage, his mood suddenly heightening. “It’s a good idea.”

Harry moves over to the doorway and drops his hands to Louis’ hips. He’s still thinner than he was when they first married, and Harry worries about him sometimes. But right now he’s not going to start an argument over that. Not when Louis is clearly having a good day.

“Have a good day, alright?” he tells him quietly, before pressing his lips to the top of his head and hugging him close. “I’ll call you at lunch.”

“Promise?” Louis asks weakly, tightening his arms around Harry’s waist.

“Of course.”

\- -

“I know today’s hard for you – Please stay strong, Harry.”

Harry sighs and lets his head drop, his forehead hitting the desk. He’s read too many emails with those words – or at least variations of them. It’s been two years to the day since Jude passed away. And although he really does appreciate all the kind words and sympathy, he’s getting sick of it. No matter what they say, they can’t ease his pain and they can’t bring Jude back. That’s the only thing that would help him – not their kind words.

He’s glad he’s in his office, though. He can lock the door and just sit at his desk and do paper work, ignoring the world outside. He thought that the second year wouldn’t hurt as much. But it did just the same. Then he realized that it’s always going to hurt. No matter what. You can’t run from it.

The first couple of weeks after Jude passed were rough, to say the least. Harry expected them to be, though, so he was somewhat prepared. Every time he caught Louis crying while doing everyday things – doing dishes, making the bed, brushing his teeth – he tried his best to be comforting, even though he was barely keeping his own emotions together.

And even as the months went by, it didn’t seem to get any easier. Jude’s absence was as strong as ever. Harry couldn’t even count how many times he woke up in the middle of the night, finding Louis’ side of the bed empty and hearing his cries from Jude’s old bedroom down the hall. That’s when he decided they had to leave. It wasn’t healthy to be there anymore. And maybe a change in scenery would help Louis. So Harry decided it was time that they moved back to London, into a new house. He decided they had to start over.

Harry managed to re-secure his job at the real estate company, his boss completely understood his situation – and find them a new house to live in. Louis on the other hand didn’t search for a new job. In fact, he really didn’t do much of anything still. He sulked around the house and slept all day and was just all around miserable. Harry couldn’t blame him. In fact, that’s all Harry really wanted to do too. But he had to be the strong one.

This morning, when he saw Louis standing in the doorway, he was truly taken by surprise. It just proves to him that Louis is slowly starting to get better, little by little. He expected Louis to be depressed all day – not getting up until well into the afternoon and crying over everything Harry said to him. At least, that’s what happened the year before.

But if Harry’s honest, he has noticed Louis changing. He doesn’t stay in bed as long anymore and he actually does the grocery shopping once or twice a month. He went back down to Doncaster for three days to visit Niall and Liam. He’s getting better. Slowly but surely. And Harry’s proud of him. He always will be.

“Hey, Harry?”

Harry’s boss, Marshall, is knocking on his office door now, and Harry can see his outline through the semi-transparent glass in the door. He sighs and puts his pen down, getting up to unlock the door so that Marshall can come in.

“I need you out on the floor to help someone – everyone else is busy with a customer and you’re my last option. If I had any other choice you know I would take it but…I don’t. So…”

“Yeah, no problem,” Harry nods, reaching up to straighten his tie. “It’s fine. I can do it.”

Marshall grins and pats him on the back. “Awesome. Besides, I think you’re the best option to help this guy. He’s looking for a flat for him and his boyfriend.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Oh so you need someone who speaks ‘gay’, is that it?” he jokes. “I’m on it.”

The customer that Harry has been asked to assist is looking into lofts with a view. Harry walks over to him, confident and cheerful as he possibly can be right now. If he bags this customer maybe Marshall will let him leave early. Then he can meet Liam earlier and get home to be with Louis earlier.

He starts off strong, with “You know, we have a few lofts listed right in the center of London. At a great price too.”

The man jumps at Harry’s sudden presence, eyes wide. “Sorry,” he blushes, “I didn’t know you were there.”

“No problem. I’m Harry.So you're interested in a loft with a view?”

He nods and holds his hand out to shake Harry's, “Yeah, I am. My name’s Will. My boyfriend’s graduation from uni is in a few days and I wanted to get him something special, you know? We’ve been looking into flats to move into together all year and just haven't found the right one.”

Harry fakes interest. “Oh yeah? How long have you been together?”

“A little over a year now,” Will grins, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulls out his cell phone and holds it up for Harry to see his background. “That’s him.”

It’s a picture of two people in what looks like (to Harry, at least) New York City. The one on the left is Will and the one on the right? It’sThomas. Harry’s ex-boyfriend. He looks exactly the same except for one thing – he looks happier. Happier than Harry ever had the chance to see. Harry feels his heart pounding in his chest. He wants to ask Will so many things about Thomas– how’s he doing? Did he graduate with honors like he wanted? Has he ever mentioned me? Are you treating him right? But he refrains, instead just smiling more and telling Will that they look like a good couple. It’s not even a lie.

“So yeah. I know he likes quaint things I'm just not sure…”

“Well I think I can help you out with that decision.”

\- -

It’s a quarter past six when Harry is sitting in his car in the driveway. He’s staring up at the two story home, not quite ready to go inside. He can see the kitchen light on and to be honest, Harry is afraid of the state he’ll find him in when he gets in there. He could be totally fine – just like when Harry left him this morning. And then on the other hand, he could be a total mess.

The flickering of one of the outside lights brings Harry back to reality, back to the fact that he’s sitting in his car, afraid to go inside. He’s being ridiculous, he realizes. Louis is probably just finishing up dinner and waiting for Harry to get home so they can eat together and talk about what happened at work and how Harry’s visit with Liam was.

So he gets out of the car with a smile, his excitement to see Louis increasing as he walks up the pathway. His fumbles a few times with his keys before managing to successfully unlock the front door and push it open, the smell of Italian food instantly hitting him.

“Hey Baby? I’m home!”

“I’m in the kitchen!”

He finds Louis in front of the microwave, eyes trained on the back of a box labeled ‘chicken parmesan dinner for two’ and Harry finds himself laughing. Because of course Louis wouldn’t try making anything on his own.

“Shut up,” he says when he realizes Harry is laughing at him, “You know I can’t really cook!”

“It’s okay baby. We can pretend you made it all on your own.”

Louis pouts and tries to resist Harry’s hug. “I tried to make pasta but I ended up burning it somehow. So I had to go out and buy this. I just wanted everything to be perfect.”

Noticing how upset Louis is actually getting over this, Harry quickly stops his laughter. “Baby I’m serious – it’s totally fine. I don’t care if you can cook or not. You know that.”

His arms engulf Louis in a tight hug and Louis mumbles, “I just…Harry, I have to talk to you.”

He sounds miserable all of a sudden and Harry thinks that maybe he hasn’t been paying close enough attention to him. Was he not as okay as Harry thought he was that morning? Was Harry just trying to see what he wanted to see? He pulls away but keeps a tight hold on Louis’s shoulders. “Is everything alright?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…I have something to tell you but I’m not sure how you’re going to take it so…I don’t really want to tell you.”

Louis looks even smaller than he did this morning, if possible. Something’s obviously worrying him and it has been for a while, it seems. Harry wants to kick himself for not noticing this sooner. That’s his job – taking care of Louis. How could he have missed it?

“Is it bad?” Harry asks, “You can tell me. I’m not going to be mad or anything, Lou.”

“It’s just something that we haven’t talked about and I don’t know if it’s a good time to-”

“Tell me. Come on, just spit it out.”

“I’m pregnant.”

For the second time today, Harry is caught off guard. First with Thomas and now with this. Pregnant? He can’t even really wrap his mind around it. A baby. Is that…is that something that they could handle right now? So soon? They haven’t talked about it at all, but Harry’s not exactly opposed to it. Just…Now?

“If you’re not happy then just say so. I can’t read your mind, Harry, as much as I wish I could.”

“I...I don’t know how I feel right now, to be honest,” Harry admits, reaching up and running a hand through his hair.

A baby. Maybe…maybe it isn’t a bad thing at all. Maybe it’s what they need. A baby could help them move on.

“Wait, when did we even have-”

Louis rolls his eyes and hits Harry in the chest, answering before he can even really finish asking the question, “The night before I went to visit Liam and Niall. Remember?”

“Right, right. That was two months ago. That makes sense.”

“Ok now that it makes sense. Do you um. Want to tell me what you’re thinking, or…”

“I think,” Harry says, stepping forward and letting his hands cup the older boy’s face, “I think this is a good thing. Definitely a good thing.”

Louis’s eyes light up, but he still looks a bit apprehensive as he leans up against the kitchen counter, Harry stepping between his legs. “You’re sure?”

“I’m positive,” Harry laughs, pressing light kisses all over Louis’s face. “I love you.”

“Harry!” Louis squeaks, trying to slip out from Harry’s hold, “Harry quit it!”

“But I just love you so much. There’s no way I’m letting you go.”

Louis gives up trying to escape, instead collapsing forward and putting all of his weight on Harry. Harry can feel his heart pounding through his t-shirt and he knows the older boy is probably grinning from ear to ear right now. As Harry reaches down to gently caress Louis’ tummy with his hand, he knows he’s right when he says that this will be good for them. A baby will help them move on. Not forget. Because they really never could forget everything that Jude gave them in the short time he had. But a baby would help ease the pain, if not just the slightest bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I should continue this.


End file.
